


Next to Me

by maecharnian



Series: Evelyn [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Bucky Barnes Recovering, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Choose Your Own Adventure, F/M, Gen, Hero Complex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Slow Burn, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF IT I PROMISE I WONT HATE YOU, also i didn't proofread bc i tried to get it out before infinity war, at some point, bc let's be real, bio electric manipulation, electric manipulation, heavy on the OC development than anything else, i guess, im just projecting honestly, im new here how the fuck does the tagging system work, just read it and then tell me what to tag bc i DONT KNOW, memory recovery, sometimes development is not even there, sorry for this mess, sprinkle of aos don't freak out, thank you for clicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:05:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 128,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maecharnian/pseuds/maecharnian
Summary: Evelyn Akari, an Enhanced ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent recovering from the wake of the Fall of Triskelion and the more recent past, is tasked by Nick Fury to find and James Buchanan Barnes and take him out or bring him in. But she has to go through lengths to find him and longer lengths to keep her past from interfering with the recovery of his. And the classification of the mission can complicate her relationship with Steve and the rest of the Avengers. How can Evelyn juggle the past and the present in her journey to find who she is as an Enhanced with responsibilities? How can Evelyn juggle this self-search journey with this mission? Because, like it or not, this off-the-books assignment will be more than what she (and Bucky) thinks it is, and it will change everyone involved.





	1. 1. Uncertainty Begins (Segno)

#### January 2nd, 2015, 8PM

Each of the five instances the target walked past Evelyn, her nose was glued to the phone. Taking her for a regular bus rider at the corner of Caroteni and Triteni, he paid her no mind.  
Evelyn, however, paid most of her attention to him as he crossed the street and began his trek home. Each of the five instances she watched him, he took different routes, the first out of two signs that she knew he was good.  
The second sign occurred at the sixth instance, the one she decided to finally follow him home, the one she couldn’t have fucked up more. He was an hour late; that should’ve been an indicator that things were going to shit. But after giving him the lead for a minute or two, she kept with the mission, shed a layer off her clothes, put her hair in a ponytail, lit a cigarette in her mouth, and hoped he thought her a different person.  
Evelyn closed her eyes and let her sixth sense zeroed in on the target's bio-electric activity, his nervous system firing electrons with every breath and movement as he walked up the sidewalk, the left side of his torso emitting a different electric signature. Then she followed from across the street, mirroring has path.  
She sucked on the cigarette again, resisting the urge to cough and blow her cover. The Girl Waiting at the Bus Stop was not a smoker, but Girl Walking Home Alone was.  
When she crossed the street, the target turned his head the slightest to make eye contact with her. She almost let a cough out in a panic, but instead exhaled a cloud of smoke. A car screeched to a halt on her right, horns honking, driver screaming in Romanian (Keep walking, bitch!), snapping her out of her momentary panic. Evelyn slapped a hand on the car’s hood and flipped the driver off before hopping to the safety of the sidewalk.  
Then Evelyn was lost. James Barnes had disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for picking this up. Let me know what you think. Tell me it's shit, tell me it's okay, tell me you're dropping it. Just lemme know, y'know?


	2. 2. Hercules

#### August 1, 2014

The HYDRA hierarchy had gathered the bare maximum into the largest room in the compound. Evelyn was among them, trying to understand the Spanish lecture everyone was getting, but to no avail. The man speaking had dark circles and a weary face. He seemed to be banking on energy drinks and stress to keep him awake.

That was the second indicator that this base was falling apart. The first was how the base was dipped in darkness then dipped in blood as the red emergency lights powered by the backup generator flashed.

Despite the man at wits end and his base on emergency power for mysterious reasons, his voice was confident and hostile as he screamed at all of them.

Evelyn got the gist of the speech and the reason for the gathering when the armed agents in the room cocked their guns at everyone.

_Shit._

“What the fuck,” Evelyn muttered, putting her hands up on instinct

“There is a sleeper among us,” someone beside her muttered, translating the situation.

She almost laughed at the irony. All this time, HYDRA was sleeping within S.H.I.E.L.D., now it might have been vice versa. The wheel never stops spinning.

The man in charge stepped away from the front and walked around, placing names to faces, scanning for lies that bubbled to the surface.

When he was only three people away from looking at her face and realizing it doesn’t match with her ID badge, Evelyn started counting bodies by bioelectricity. There might have been 10 guards outside protecting the base, maybe 3 techs trying to get the power back on, 1 if Evelyn was lucky. 39 bio electric activities in the room excluding hers, a small base.

When the very tired and angry man on the brink of mania finally looked upon her face, he and 38 others dropped on the ground following the loud sounds of crackling electricity around the room. It was that moment Evelyn released the electricity she was holding with her hands still in the air. 39 bodies convulsed in shock for a second, then remained still as Evelyn took it all back.

 

* * *

 

Before walking out of the compound, Evelyn made sure everyone’s hearts were still beating at the regular rate. After shocking the consciousness out of everyone with the building’s own power source, she finally emerged from the flashing darkness and blood of the emergency power and into the Potosi night sky.

Evelyn loved the feeling when she fled bases. She managed not to become a mass murderer by way of her abilities and she managed not to die as a result of her unsupervised hunt for HYDRA. With each base she fed to the world, the feeling of justice flooded her. HYDRA did Triskelion. They killed everyone. They did everything.

And now she’d hit them back. All of them.

Still, she was surprised she got through the night, and through the previous nights she’s done this. There was always a fight in her that kept her frozen on the high ground that she watched the base from.

_This was it. Destroy the base. Destroy HYDRA. S.H.I.E.L.D. can’t take revenge on them. You are what is left of S.H.I.E.L.D._

_This is pointless. Cut off one head, two more shall take its place. Run, while you still have a chance. Turn around, before they catch you._

Evelyn was more surprised she could put a base on emergency power that quick. She would always feel the energy resist her beckoning as she held her hands out, the only variable was the time it took for her to decide when to grab it by the neck and break it.

For HYDRA, it was in a heartbeat.

On her trek back into the city, Evelyn heard a sound not native to the grass savanna. But it was familiar.

She turned around, cocking the gun she copped from an unconscious HYDRA guard. At first, it was nothing. Just the same grass savanna landscape behind her and ahead of her and around her. But in the tree a few feet away from her was a figure perched on a branch, a gun aimed at her too.

In the middle of scolding herself for letting her guard down, the figure spoke:

“So, you’re Hercules,” the voice said, and the figure hopped off the branch. She stumbled when her feet touched the ground, catching herself with one hand on the ground.

Evelyn watched the woman straighten herself out, stretching her arms with the gun still in her hand, kicking her feet back twice, like she was about to race. Then she stepped closer and her blonde hair hit the moonlight, and Evelyn never found her heart racing so fast until this moment. There was something familiar about that face in front of her, and the way she moved, and the way that her white blonde hair shone in the light.

“Well?” the woman said, pointing her gun at Evelyn, raising her eyebrow. Evelyn wondered about the woman’s eyebrows. They looked like they had a life of their own.

For a moment, Evelyn forgot the gun in her hands. She raised it with conviction, attempting to recover from her mental stutter, “What?” Her throat was dry all of a sudden.

“Hercules. The Greek hero that killed the hydra. That’s what they’re calling you,” the woman flashed her off-white smile.

 “You been places, Hercules?” the woman asked in a manner that sounded like she already knew the answer.

Evelyn noted the woman’s familiar drawling American accent. She wasn’t a native Bolivian, but she couldn’t have been HYDRA because Evelyn had a good feeling about her. Unusual. But she could be wrong. She was banking on being wrong.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Evelyn stepped back.

“Ever been to Zapala?” the woman stepped closer. She watched and raised an eyebrow at Evelyn’s silent confirmation.

“Lima? A beautiful place, from what I could gather in the two seconds I was there,” the woman watched as Evelyn said nothing. When she stepped even closer, she seemed to glide on the ground.

Evelyn finally spoke, but it seemed like an eternity, “What do you want?”

In a civilian setting, Evelyn would have liked this girl. She would’ve been proper nervous, like her life was just about to begin. But now it was the wrong kind of nervous, and the feeling of death stuck to her like sweat. The longer they stood there, the more she got afraid.

Frankly, Evelyn could’ve ended this a second ago, a long time ago. But she didn’t know who this woman was. And possible non-HYDRA face? It was nonexistent at this point.

The woman just stood there and smiled with her gun, like a poisoned pastry.

“What do you _want_?” Evelyn repeated, and they both heard the nervousness and anger in her voice. She straightened out her index finger at the girl, sending a shock to her hands.

The woman pulled her hands away with a hiss, and Evelyn hoped the gun about to hit the ground was drop safe. When a shot didn’t ring out and they both came out with uninjured feet, Evelyn turned the gun in her hands and whipped her opponent in the jaw. It was a series of quick grabs and punches of which Evelyn was unsure who did what. By the time the woman could land pain on Evelyn, they were on the ground and she had Evelyn’s wrist pinned down.

“What just happened?” the woman asked, curious, almost furious. It was hard to tell from the inquisitive smile on her face.

“Allen?” Evelyn tested the name once it made sense to connect it to the face above her.

“Holy hell, Akari? I should’ve known this was your M.O.,” the woman, Agent Allen, shook over Evelyn in a laugh.

But Evelyn wasn’t buying it. She hasn’t seen Allen since before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, and that was months ago. Anybody could be HYDRA.

Evelyn sent another shock from her own wrist to Agent Allen’s hand. Then she managed to pin the woman under her with a knee on her stomach. “I just gained the upper hand. Now, stop fucking around and tell me what the hell you want or your brain will end up much more fried than your HYDRA buddies back at that base.”

Allen relaxed under Evelyn, a small smile emerged on her face, “Confirming Hercules, HQ. And an old buddy of mine.”

 _Shit_.

Before Evelyn could shock Allen into unconsciousness with what remaining electricity she stored from the HYDRA base, the whirring of an aircraft grew from the left and then over her. At first it was the empty night sky, but out of the twinkling darkness came a quinjet uncloaked, emerging from nothingness. Its guns were up and aimed at her.

“Shit,” Evelyn could only mutter.

“I’m not HYDRA, Eve. You can take that to the bank,” said Allen under her. She wasn’t fighting now. She thought she was safe with Evelyn.

Then the jet’s microphones came on and a familiar voice she never thought she’d hear came on, and she was so glad for it, “Evelyn Louise Akari, I think you’d have a good mind to not shoot us out of the sky and come with us.”

Evelyn quickly stood up, turned at the quinjet, and laughed. She had forgotten the last five minutes, the brush with death, and laughed. She tried to scream, but it seemed she could only vomit laughter until her stomach hurt.

The quinjet bay door opened, and dirt flew into her wide-open mouth. Captain America’s growing silhouette against the blue lights of the quinjet unraveled the tight knots in her stomach.

The hysteric laughs that made her throat ache settled, but she was still shaking. Her chest was rattling, her vision blurring. She teetered forward in her sobs, and Cap was there to meet her before her knees gave out.

She knew now. Joanna Allen was S.H.I.E.L.D. Cap was alive. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

 

* * *

 

“How long you been out there? Doing this?” Maria Hill sat across from Evelyn in the interrogation room, where the light didn’t reach.

Evelyn forgot how S.H.I.E.L.D. worked, how straight to the formalities they were. Cap was quick to usher her into the interrogation room after that long quiet ride from Potosi to New York. But they told her it wasn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore. Just shambles of it glued together by the Avengers.

“Since Triskelion,” Evelyn said quietly. She took a sip of the tap water she was given. She didn’t realize she missed filtered tap water.

Hill nodded, pursing her lips, straightened out the files in front of her.

“You’re hard to catch,” she didn’t waste time grieving, looking down at the file and skimmed. “Had us running around South America for weeks. We got lucky in Potosi.”

Hill looked at Evelyn for the slightest reaction. But she kept her face blank, unrelenting. She couldn’t give anything away, not in a room like this.

“Where else have you been?”

“Rio Branco, Lima, Zapala,” Evelyn recalled. “Copiapo was the one right before Potosi.”

Hill nodded, keeping her eyes on the file in front of her. “Why didn’t you try to find S.H.I.E.L.D., Evelyn? Why’d you stick it out by yourself all these months?”

Evelyn wrinkled her nose, “I did find S.H.I.E.L.D. The base in Villagomez. From what I saw there, S.H.I.E.L.D. was dead.” Her heart dropped at the memory of the base. It was a hard image to erase.

Hill nodded knowingly, but she still asked for good measure, “What did you find there?”

Evelyn took a deep breath, shutting her eyes, “Place was burned to the ground before I got there. Bodies were charred inside. The ones that were outside were dead, foaming at the mouths, shot for good measure.”

“I had to assume it was the only one left. It would be too risky to look for anyone else,” Evelyn shrugged.

“So, why are you here? I mean, you had a pretty good gig going down there. You could have taken HYDRA down in South America.”

Evelyn felt a fire in her chest.

“What’s your damage?” Evelyn couldn’t help but scoff. Hill was trying to provoke her. Only, Evelyn didn’t know why.

Hill only raised an eyebrow.

“What did you think I was doing down there?” Evelyn was close to screaming. “Some kind of S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol? There weren’t instructions for the off chance that S.H.I.E.L.D. fucking exploded, Hill. I was doing what I could think of with what I had.”

Maria opened her mouth to counter that, no doubt, but Evelyn continued, feeling molten lava spill out of her mouth, “You think I’m going to go back to that? Go back to pretending to part of the organization that killed everyone? I thought I was alone out there, Hill. I _was_ alone out there, in that pit of vipers. Sure, it was somehow efficient. But the thought that the whole world was HYDRA and I was the only one left was the only thing going through my head. In hindsight, an ignorant thought, but it would have driven me insane.

“I’m not Captain fucking America, Hill. I wouldn’t have somehow created a new S.H.I.E.L.D. with people with good intentions. HYDRA would have caught up to me, and I would’ve died doing Level 4 shit.”

Hill perked up at that, “So, you want to do large scale stuff? That’s why—”

“No,” Evelyn interrupted. “I wasn’t raised by S.H.I.E.L.D. to be some bounty hunter. That's not who I am. I was raised by S.H.I.E.L.D., for S.H.I.E.L.D. For a team.”

Her voice almost broke, but it didn’t. Evelyn stared down Hill until Hill got up and walked out of that interrogation room.

Evelyn must have waited for an eternity in there. Why was she here? Why did they track her down? What use could she—

The door banged open and Joanna and her white blonde hair and piercing green eyes with expressive eyebrows sauntered in.

“Sorry about that scare in Potosi,” Joanna grinned.

Evelyn stuttered, not knowing what to say, feeling the heart rate she felt back there with the fact that Joanna wasn’t HYDRA. God, what a big relief. Evelyn would’ve had to kill an old friend. She was glad she didn’t.

Before something coherent could come out of Evelyn’s mouth, Joanna continued, “Wonderful to see you again, and on the right side. Welcome to the intern team.”


	3. 3. Genesis

#### January 2nd, 2015, 9PM

 _Shit._  She was lost. She lost her mark. Or the mark lost his detail. Either way, Evelyn was lost at the shadiest looking part of Bucharest, scared shitless. She could take care of herself, but it was still scary walking down a dark street with barely no one around. These past five days, following James Barnes was the only comfort she had walking through the city at night. It was the constant she had in this mission, and now she forced to walk home alone.

_It’s okay. You’re close. Just three more streets over._

She passed a group of men loitering a few paces past a night club, laughing at each other, taking an occasional swig from a bottle. She never walked past a group of people so fast in her life.

“ _Buna, iubito!_ ” a slurred voice suddenly called out from behind. _Hey, baby._ There were several laughters and whistles.

 _Shit._ She counted their bio-electric signatures now. Exactly seven, all barely shitfaced. She could probably take them all with just a little bit of electricity, but it would be physically tiring. Some of them were built, and they were only partially drunk so they could hold their own for a while. It would be traumatizing for her in the long run. _Shit._

“ _Vrei să mă duci acasă în seara asta_?” another harsh voice called out from the same gaggle of men. She didn’t completely catch what the man said; something about going home. She didn’t know what the hell he was talking about but it didn’t sit well with her.

Evelyn walked faster, clutching her phone, ready to throw it at someone, avoiding a fight. Her inner voice scolded her: _Fool. That would make them angrier._

“ _Căţea, Vorbesc cu tine_!” _Bitch, I’m talking to you_. She caught that.

One of the voices said, all of the voices said. Did it matter? It was like the voices behind her were getting closer, she could feel their alcohol-stenched breath on her neck, but she was far away, galaxies far away, she wasn’t even here.

But a cold tight grip yanked her back to earth and into a dark alley. The force pinned her against a brick wall, her face scraping against the rough texture. Somehow, both her hands were maneuvered behind her. One hand held her hands down, the other over her mouth.

She didn’t scream. She knew the rules. Scream or live. Instead, she squirmed against the tight grip of the hand, trying to get her bracelet off. Why didn’t she take it off already? Oh god, why didn’t she take it off. Oh god, shit shit _shit shit_. There were many things that had traumatized her before. This shouldn’t be new. But this was different. It was too different. She felt the tears coming, she felt the sob building in her throat.

“ _Cine esti? De ce mă urmărești? Esti HYDRA_?” _Who are you? Why are you howling? Are you HYDRA?_ It was James Barnes breathing down her neck.

She wasn’t sure about that second sentence, but she didn’t care. Barnes and his questions scared the shit out of her even if she only half knew what he meant, but relief was the only thing she could feel right now. The scream building in her throat had dissipated, her body had relaxed, and she could think.

The hand holding both of hers down was covered in a glove, and she could feel the electrical difference between both of his arms. She focused, fear of assault receding. She could feel his bio-electric activity behind her, surging, panicked but collected.

Her cover was hanging by a thread. Evelyn tried to hold in her laughter, her hysterics.

She could hear Stark in her head: _Theatrics! The water works! This is your stage! You’re just a girl walking home at the seediest place in Bucharest, nothing more!_

Evelyn forced the tears out, sobbing under Barnes’s hand. It was how she would have reacted if it were those men calling back at her. She tried to speak under his hand, and when he lifted it, she repeated herself, but her voice was small and recovering from forced crying, “ _Evelyn. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I’m just walking home, please._ ”

 _Great, start out with your real name,_ her inner voice was more annoyed than panicked.

She was hoping her American accent wouldn’t come through. She was hoping that the five days she’s been here had covered it up.

He relaxed for a second, but his grip on her tightened, “ _You’re lying. You’ve been following me for three blocks, what the_ hell _do you want?_ ”

 _Shit._ She tried to plead with him one more time, recover her cover. But when she opened her mouth to speak, he interrupted, “ _Lie to me and everything is going to shit.”_

 _Shit._ “Not HYDRA,” she easily folded.

“Prove it,” he said through gritted teeth.

Her hands were numb, unfeeling. Bio-electricity still pulsed, just not the right signals that allowed her to feel her own hands.

Evelyn mustered her voice, “My phone. It’s got Steve Rogers’ number in it.”

He paused, and something changed in his bioelectric activity for a second. Then, as if quickly getting a hold of himself, he muttered something angrily in a foreign language. Not Romanian.

“What?” she didn’t have to pretend to be scared. She felt as if he were threatening her, as if he said she would chop her up and bury her in nine different graves.

Though, at that word, Barnes let her go.

She turned, her back on the wall. She slid down so that she sat on the ground, relief taking over her again in a less hysterical way. She rubbed her wrists, feeling the absence of Barnes’s tight grip all over her hands. She slid the bracelet off, feeling electricity around her and through her.

 “You live across the hall, don’t you?” a tone of realization. “And you were in Moldova.”

 _Shit._ She was praying to whatever god that he didn’t recognize her from every morning encounter with her back to him as she fumbled with her apartment keys.

Her hands were still now, and she watched Barnes pace in front of her, “Like I said, I was walking home.” She wasn’t quivering as much anymore, but still so, in the presence of a master assassin and all.

“How long?” he demanded, his voice quiet and collected.

His coolness unnerved her though, but she obliged, “Moldova took a three days. But after that, two weeks..”

Barnes was silent at that for a moment. Maybe it was the idea that he couldn’t shake her off. Maybe it was the idea that HYDRA might be behind her tail. “Who sent you? What do you want?”

She was completely still, afraid that if she moved, the world would explode, “Maria Hill wants me to find out if HYDRA’s still keeping tabs on you. She’s trying to smoke them out.”

_Why didn’t she tell him the whole truth?_

After that was asked in her head, she spit the second part out, “And Nick Fury. He wants me to recruit you. Help you.”

Barnes laughed, “You’re all out of your god damned mind.”

That was her cue. The end of her mission. Failed. Still, she was relieved. She could go home. _Home_ home. No more scary drunk men screaming at her in a foreign language and following her to an apartment that felt like an empty cell.

But part of her wanted to stay. To help. That’s what she came to do. She had to.

“Why is that?” she dared ask, keeping her voice small, unhostile.

He was shaking his head as he paced, “I don’t do that anymore. HYDRA’s dead, so is S.H.I.E.L.D. And I- I’m done being HYDRA’s puppet. So you can go back to your bosses and tell them I’m not going to be Fury’s.”

 _Shit._ She watched him walk away, back out the street where the lights shone best, leaving her in the dark.

_Let him go._

_You can get him help._

_HYDRA will find him._

_This is your last chance._

_Be of use._

Evelyn shot off the ground and took off running after him, “Barnes, please. Listen.”

“What did you not understand back there?” he said, not facing her, quickening his pace.

She kept up, almost jogging, “HYDRA is very much not dead. I don’t think you believe that either, why else would you ask if I was HYDRA.”

He was silent at that.

Evelyn continued, “Where I’m from, where I work, I mean. We’ve been trying to take down their bases all over the world. Believe me, it’s a fact that they’re very much alive.”

Then Barnes stopped and burned holes into her face with a look, “I am _done_ with all of that. Here’s another fact: one of us is going to move out of the complex tomorrow.”

He walked away from her again, leading them both into the apartment street.

Evelyn stopped him with a hand to the front of his jacket and looked at him. Jesus, he looked so tortured, torn, conflicted. Part of her just wanted to leave, comply with the part of him that wanted her to. The other part of her wanted to persist, help the small part of him that _wanted_ help.

She spoke gently, “You don’t have to be part of anything. We just want you away from HYDRA.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but it was Evelyn had to take the upper hand, “If _I_ found you, then you bet your bottom fucking dollar that HYDRA might.”

That was a lie. No one could find him the way she did.

Barnes was breathing heavy, she could feel it under his jacket. He glanced at her and looked away, sighing, “I’ll take my chances.” Then he shook her off and entered their apartment building.

“You have better chances with me than with anyone,” she called out desperately as she followed him into the intersection, ignoring the car that honked at her. She didn’t even spare a glaring look at the driver. That voice in her head that sounded weirdly like Fury was itching at her, _you know what you have to do now._

“I can see your head. The mess it is inside,” she called out as they ascended the stairs, almost too quickly, too bluntly

Barnes stopped with his foot on the next step.

She had him.

He turned around, and she could feel the excitement pulsing through his body, his brain. His jaw was grinding, eyes menacing. Evelyn felt herself shrink at his approach.

“What did you just say?” there was fury in his eyes, but there was desperation and relief.

Evelyn straightened her posture. She had a foot in the door. “Your brain, made up countless neurons, pulsing bio-electricity.” She shed her bracelet, and pulled the energy from the nearest light, plunging their part of the stairwell into darkness.

Barnes recoiled at the action, growing warier when Evelyn held her hand out in front of her, electricity calmly crackling at her fingers. “I can feel electricity, the watts a human body produces, the brain as the mission control,” she said as she watched the familiar blue threads bob and weave through her fingers erratically. The words coming out of her mouth were familiar, like she’d given the speech before. She wished it were more eloquent. Maybe if she reached far back enough in her mind, she would find the right words.

Instead, she sent the energy back at the lamp, the light glowing above them like an idea just occurred. She looked up at Barnes quick enough to see his amazed face before it faded into cool indifference. Still, the glint of relief in his eyes were there.

“Your neuron paths, a good chunk of them, they look…” she stopped herself from saying _wrong_. “…rewired. Rewired recklessly, like a kid ripping apart a wire as thick as a brain and putting it back together and expecting each hair thin filament to match up exactly before the breakage.”

She’d never really analyzed the wiring of anything organic before. She saw the bigger picture, not the microscopic details. Just thinking about it scared her. Life was delicate, a line that she wouldn’t think of getting near. Her heart skipped in fear for a moment at the thought.

How would she even start with him? Resynthesize his brain. One neuron at a time. She’ll need a control group, a brain with all the right things. Volunteers are out of the question.

 _Shit_.

Evelyn’s eyes focused from hypothetical disasters in her head back into flesh and she realized she was staring at him. Her eyes shot to her shoes at lightning speed.

“We both know that’s not the case with you,” she concluded mousily.

Barnes took in her truth. She saw the anger and fear in his eyes dissolve into surrender.

“Let me help you,” she begged.

For a moment, it looked like he was going to give in. But he scoffed, turned around, and said, “You better be gone by the morning or I will.”

Then he jammed his key into the knob of his door and closed with a bang.

 

* * *

 

Evelyn had been up all night, figuring out how to pack all of her things. But it was like she expected the apartment to pack itself up since not a single thing had been moved in any way that suggested she was leaving.

By the ninth hour of pretending to pack, she had resolved to just a duffel bag with three changes of clothes, and the arc reactor under the floor board. The simple furniture that she still had not gotten used to would be left in the apartment for the landlord to find when he would come to kick her out.

At 6 AM, Evelyn should’ve been out the door. But she was sitting on the flimsy patio chair with her feet on the balcony railing, hearing the city wake up. She couldn’t go back home. That’s where every reminder was. She couldn’t stay here because here was another reminder.

Evelyn watched the sparks in her hands fly, jumping from finger to finger with the slightest sound. And then she was thrown into that usual line of questioning. Why did she have this? She couldn’t help S.H.I.E.L.D. Look where they were now. Triskelion was in ruins. She was just there. And she couldn’t help them. She couldn’t help the Avengers either. Kolkata was a disaster, it was her disaster. The bombs, Joa—

“Did you mean what you said?”

Evelyn suppressed the need to jump to her feet. On the other balcony, to her left, was Barnes, leaning over the edge, watching the sun turn the sky orange. She barely heard him come out into the balcony in the silence of the sunrise.

She only put her feet down and looked at him look at the sky, “About what?”

Barnes’s eyes darted around, waiting to see if the apartment doors nearby would open.

Evelyn didn’t detect any bio-electric activity nearby apart from him.

“It’s okay, no one’s listening,” she coaxed him to speak.

“Everything,” he didn’t hesitate to say after her confirmation, though quietly. He didn’t look away for a second. As if he could detect her lies just by looking at her.

So she tried not to. She nodded and carefully recalled everything, “Maria Hill did send me to see if you’re still the Big H, and Fury—”

Barnes shook his head, and broke eye contact. He stared at his street below as he spoke, “About me, what you see, in my head. About help.”

“Yes,” she said confidently. The one thing she would never doubt was what she could see and the things she could do. “With some scientific research, they’ll be able to tell what’s—”

He shook his head again, almost jumpy, “No ‘they.’ I’m not…” He sighed, shutting his eyes, swallowing, recollecting his thoughts. “You said you’re the best chance I got. _You_.”

Evelyn held his gaze, heart in her throat.

“What you can do, can you use that?” his voice was shaky.

“I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it,” she admitted. It’s been a festering, flourishing thought at the back of her mind. It was one of the thoughts that kept her awake last night, and a thought that completely occupied her.

She visualized the map she always saw when using her abilities. The one that had a vibrant blue river flowing from an electrical appliance to wires in the walls to the power source. This time the appliance was Barnes and it led her to the brain. She dared herself to look a little smaller, something she never looked at. Components of the power source, the nerves, down to the axons and the nerve endings, and then the electrical interactions those made. Thinking about it freaked her out. If she saw humans the way she saw electrical objects, she was limitless.

“I don’t know,” Evelyn said after what felt like a full minute of silence. Her voice was shaky all of a sudden, feeling rattled.

But a look from Barnes’s subtle desperation snapped her out of it. “It depends,” she said. “On what makes your brain different, and what you want to do.”

She leaned against the rail, and jumped back into her map. She followed the blue river until it was reduced to its basic trickle coming from a neuron. It was just a matter of determining what the matter with Barnes’s neurons was.

 _Nerve cells don’t regenerate. You know that. Even if you could find out what’s wrong, you won’t be able to fix it if it’s irreparable. This won’t work_.

Evelyn pushed that worst case scenario at the back of her mind, refusing to work with it.

“And it depends on how good I am at what I have to do,” she tried to smile, but looking at him started to make her nervous.

Barnes nodded. The desperation on his face changed into something else at that second. She could have sworn there was a hint of relief and excitement in his eyes. But maybe she was projecting on some Freudian slip level.

“How soon can we start?” he said, hesitating to get it out.

Evelyn’s heart leapt at her throat, her stomach dropping at the same time. She opened her mouth to speak, but only stutters came out.

“How long do you need to figure this out?” he asked softly.

There were constant explosions in her mind in form of questions about what she needed to do, to learn, how to do it. Her heart raced just thinking about it.

She leaned over her balcony and placed her head in her hands, eyes shut, thinking, trying to slow down the explosions into a single question at a time. She’ll have to have a look at his brain, how exactly he was wired. She’d have to be able to feel electrical activity at cellular level, a level more refined than anything she had to deal with. It was always clumps of energy she dealt with, like spools of thread. Now she’d have to unwind the thread, then split it down the middle.

Evelyn recalled her time with S.H.I.E.L.D., how long it took her to get electrical manipulation down.

“Two weeks if I was a Jedi,” Evelyn said, still thinking, just loud enough for him to hear. She had condensed the S.H.I.E.L.D. training timeline so the amount of time she said only accounted for the intermediate and advanced stages of mastering electrical detection.

“I don’t—”

“Two months if we’re being realistic,” she turned to him, still standing and staring, only this time, there was a look of confusion in his face.

She didn’t account for the countless S.H.I.E.L.D. lessons on the history of electricity, how it works, the different concepts and uses and natural occurrences, and all the other headaches over that two month period. Now she had to become an expert on neuroscience.

Evelyn just got a headache thinking about everything.

“Are you okay with that?” Barnes asked. He was fidgeting. He looked like those boys on television, all nervous, trying to rack up the nerve to ask the girl out to prom.

“With what?”

“Staying here for two more months?” he was so quiet. Evelyn didn’t know if he just didn’t want eavesdroppers to hear or if someone offering help was a rare occurrence he never came across.

“It’s two months of prep. I don’t know what the rest of that road looks like or how long it will take,” she confessed.

Barnes shrugged and gave a small smile, “That’s okay.”

Then he straightened himself and downed the last few drops of coffee she didn’t realize he had.

She watched him make to leave his balcony when she spoke, “Can I ask you something?”

Barnes stopped and looked at her with curious blue eyes. Her heart jumped to her throat as he held her eyes.

“What changed your mind?” Evelyn asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He swallowed and looked down at his shoes, “I just thought it was about time to start trusting people again. Even though not completely.” His voice was stronger than it had ever been at any point in the conversation.

She was suddenly nervous. James Barnes trusted her, just a little bit, but that was pressure. She didn’t want to break it, but she was all too capable of shattering it to hell.

“Thank you,” she managed to say.

Barnes nodded, then pursed his lips, “I have to go to work now.”

Evelyn nodded back, trying to swallow down nervousness. She made to go back into her apartment when she heard “I’ll see you at the bus stop.”

She managed to chuckle, trying to cover up her burning face with a small smile, “I’ll be too busy trying to move all my stuff back in to follow you around today. Maybe tomorrow, Barnes.”

A smile grew on his face, managing to make Evelyn’s face burn hotter. “You can call me Bucky.”


	4. 4. The Intern Team; The Crossroads

#### November 4th 2014, Kolkata

“Focus, kid,” Romanoff said through the comms for the third time after Joanna kept getting distracted. Following an alleged HYDRA agent didn’t allow for distractions, especially in this busy Kolkatan street.

 _Code name: Black Widow, Widow for short, Mom for shorter,_ Evelyn ran the thought through her head each time Romanoff spoke. And each time someone spoke. It was a habit she picked up from her first assignment under S.H.I.E.L.D. four years ago, and one she had a hard time dropping.

Aragorn scoffed and complained through the comms, “ _I don’t get why it’s always tailing with you people. We already have the location; why can’t we just attack now_.”

_Code name: Strider. Code name two: Whiner._

“ _If you want to go in there guns blazing, your Highness, then go right ahead_ ,” Aulani retorted.

_Code name: Voyager. Code name two: Buzzkill._

Romanoff grinned beside Evelyn, “You’re not king in this world, and I’m the one giving orders here.”

Aragorn was silent at the moment the nature of his namesake was mentioned.

“ _Approaching disembarkment_ ,” Joanna said quietly.

 _Code name: Sahara. Code name two…_ Joanna didn’t have a second codename. She was just Joanna. Joanna. Nothing more.

“Strider, you’re up. Don’t lose him,” Romanoff said, and Aragorn groaned at his codename.

Widow’s commands shook Evelyn out of her state, bringing her back to the present. In a moment that Evelyn only saw from the roof she and Romanoff were stationed on, Joanna deviated from the path she was following that alleged HYDRA agent made, and turned a corner. Aragorn emerged from the same corner and continued to follow.

Romanoff turned to Evelyn, “Proceed with the plan. Rendezvous with Sahara and make your way to the location.”

That was when Evelyn parted with Romanoff and stopped scanning the street below for any hidden threats. She wanted to ask Romanoff if she’d be alright by herself up here, but took the thought back. She was more than capable of protecting herself.

Evelyn descended the building, half glad to be out of the glare of the Indian sun, half afraid to be on her own for more than a second. Though this was the seventh recon assignment and potentially fourth assault, Evelyn was never ready to be on her own. Instinctively, she grabbed her wrist to shed the Faraday bracelet, but found it had already been taken off. She made sure four more times that her wrists were bare as she passed each floor and each door of the apartment building.

“You’re doing it again,” Joanna appeared on Evelyn’s right as she emerged from the building.

Evelyn’s face heated up and shoved her hands down her pockets, “Sorry.” She forgot she once shared a bunk with Joanna since the helicarrier went up in the old S.H.I.E.L.D. days, and she forgot how much Joanna knew from that time spent on the helicarrier.

“Here,” Joanna said shoving a plate under her nose and the scent of spices that Evelyn couldn’t identify hit her nose.

“Kolkatan egg rolls. They’re good,” she said, taking a big bite from her egg roll.

Evelyn looked around nervously, as if Romanoff was there to scold them for giving into the mouthwatering smells all over the place. She hesitated, but she took the second egg roll from the plate and bit into it.

“Can’t help but feel a little guilty for eating,” Evelyn said with a full mouth. She watched everyone around her, wondered what everyone was doing, if anyone meant any harm.

“C’mon, Evelyn. It’s just you and me,” Joanna grinned after swallowing.

“ _And everyone on comms_ ,” Aulani chirped in.

“Sure thing, honey,” Joanna smirked, grabbing the earpiece from Evelyn’s ear as well as her own and shoving it into her pocket.

Evelyn should have been used to it by now. Joanna did as she pleased, and if the mission is jeopardized, then she’d be okay stuck at a desk job on the Fourth.

Still, Evelyn voiced a complaint, “Your recklessness is going to kill everyone one day.”

Joanna laughed her big laugh, then snapped back to Evelyn’s volume, “Are we still up for coffee next Tuesday?”

Evelyn spotted their car at the end of the street, and tossed the keys at Joanna. “Sorry, I’m planning to develop a strong dislike for coffee tomorrow. We’ll have to cancel.” She gave Joanna a soft punch on her arm to indicate a joke.

Joanna smiled, but Evelyn knew she was hiding a wide grin under it.

“Wait, why am I driving?” Joanna said as they approached the car.

“Because I’m still eating and I don’t have a license,” Evelyn said, smiling with her mouth full.

“In India, neither of us have a license,” Joanna quipped. “Besides, in this traffic…”

They took a look around the street, crowded with different types of vehicles and people crossing the street like daredevils.

This made Evelyn nervous.

“School must be out,” Joanna looked at her watch.

“Give me my ear piece,” Evelyn said, gently touching her wrist before catching the small thing flying through the air from Joanna’s hand.

When she put it on, she spoke immediately, interrupting the radio silence that the delicacy of the mission needed, “There’s traffic, it’ll take us at least an hour to get to disclosed location which is not in the plan. Widow, I need instructions.”

“ _I hope you wore your running shoes because that’s the only way I—_ ”

“ _T_ arget is running!” Aragorn interrupted, his breath immediately going fast as he gave chase.

“ _Shit,_ ” Romanoff said. “ _Voyager, watch for the target, he could be heading for you_.”

“ _Copy_ ,” Aulani said.

“ _Strider, give chase. Update on target’s path, Galvani and Sahara split up and try to intercept the target. HQ, we’re just about ready for some oversight_.”

“Don’t get why you opted out in the first place,” Barton’s voice came through.

_Code name: Hawkeye. Codename two: Legolas_

Evelyn looked at Joanna, “Did you get that?”

She had that hungry look in her eyes. Hungry for adrenaline, for a rush, for danger. Joanna had heard.

“See you on the other side,” Joanna grinned, and bolted back into the alley they passed through.

“ _Target deviated_ ,” Aragorn said, breathlessly now.

“ _I see it_ ,” Romanoff said, just as breathless.

“ _Sahara, turn that next left, then right. If you run fast enough, you might be able to intercept_ ,” Barton said.

The next five minutes were filled with urgent instructions and relays through the comms. The target never crossed Aulani’s checkpoint, but Aragorn gave chase on the ground and Widow from the roof tops. Barton guided the Interns through the streets of Kolkata through the quinjet hovering with cloaking tech over them. Joanna was a hair’s breadth from the target until Barton interrupted with a

“ _Target just sent out a signal_.”

That sent Evelyn to a screeching halt, almost tripping over her feet to stop. If the target sent out a signal, they would lose the element of surprise against the base they’d be attacking.

“Well, what does it say and who’s it going to?” Romanoff said, still chasing the man.

Barton gave out an exasperated sigh, “ _It’s a warning_.”

“To _who_?” Evelyn said, and began running. Not towards the target, but the alleged HYDRA base location.

But it was as if Romanoff didn’t need the answer, “Interns stay on the target’s tail. Galvani, up the roof. Hawkeye pick her up and call in the boys.”

 

* * *

 

All their guns were pointed at Evelyn, and she couldn’t help but bring her hands up in surrender. Her heart was at her throat and she wanted to choke on it to spare herself from whatever followed next.

The suspected Kolkatan HYDRA base location was confirmed when she had been caught and the guards were marching her from the street to the inside, guns all cocked and bystanders staring. There weren’t any cops around, HYDRA had probably bought them off. This whole time, they used an insurance business as a front.

But Evelyn didn’t fight their grip. She surrendered to the HYDRA agents picking her up off the floor after doing a full cavity search. She saw a small spot of red on the pristine white of the lobby floor and then simultaneously tasted the blood in her mouth. Had they really slammed her on the ground that hard?

Evelyn wriggled her hands in the grip that the agents held her in, confirming that her Faraday bracelet wasn’t on. Then she followed the electricity around the building. A few more steps and they’d be stepping over the main line, then the backup generator.

And when they did, Evelyn violated the one out of the few things that the HYDRA agents had screamed at the infiltrators as they put their guns up, and spoke, “Blackout is go.”

At those words, she wrestled out of her captor’s grip and ducked as gunfire shattered glass and the tense silence in the building lobby. When Evelyn looked around to see dropped bodies around her, she took it as her cue to pull the energy going into the building.

 _Left foot back. Hands out, palms down._ She narrated to herself. Her palms were out, feeling for the electricity, then in a quick wrenching motion, the building’s lights went dark. Then, as planned, the backup generator came on and emergency lights flashed through the place.

“ _Power levels rerouting_ ,” Stark said through the comms. “ _The server room is part of the second power load from the backup generator, just like Hill said_.”

“Nice job, kid,” Natasha Romanoff strode in the building with a purpose to her step.

“Job’s still going,” Evelyn muttered, still full of focus. It was easy to pull electricity, but it was harder to keep it out of the building. “It’s like trying to hold water and holding back a river at the same time, but I can multitask.”

Romanoff nodded, impressed, “With me.” Evelyn followed.

“I’ve cut off the law enforcement alert,” Barton came through the comms.

They headed to the emergency staircase, where HYDRA agents spilled out of. Before Romanoff could get her running start in, a blur of a shield flew past and knocked some out. Steve Rogers in his suit stepped through the broken glass walls attacked HYDRA agents that his shield had missed. Romanoff joined the fray in a second, clearing the path in the next.

“I thought I opted out for an escort?” Romanoff quipped once the coast was clear. She pushed the staircase door open, pushing unconscious bodies aside.

“Well, _I_ didn’t,” Evelyn said quietly, following Romanoff down the stairs, Rogers not far behind.

She clenched her fists, still feeling the electricity she had absorbed in the building and the strain of keeping the building stranded from its outside power source.

“ _Barton and I have begun sweeping upstairs_ ,” Stark said through the comms.

“There’s no time to play Cinderella, we have a base to attack,” Romanoff joked, and Evelyn groaned at its cheesiness.

“ _We’re all going to ignore that_ ,” Barton came through.

“ _The server room is at the end of the hall on your left_ ,” Stark said.

The three of them did not go unopposed. The doors they passed kept spewing agents, and all were forced to engage, though Evelyn knocked more bodies out in a shorter time with the energy she held. They passed the bodies they dropped, but Romanoff and Rogers were warier passing those that still had residual electricity jumping around its unconscious hosts.

“We’re wasting time,” Romanoff observed and sprinted towards the end of the hall where Stark had directed them. It had taken them a few minutes to reach the basement, but that could have been enough time for the base occupants to bury their data.

Once they passed the threshold of the room, Romanoff slid on the ground and opened the briefcase that she had been carrying. Rogers stayed just outside the door as a lookout.

“Did you have that on you the whole time?” Evelyn wondered out loud.

“It’s a handy weapon,” Romanoff smiled and pulled out cables and began plugging things in. “Data mine commencing,” she stated, and screens on the briefcase lit up. And so began Romanoff’s erratic typing.

“Evelyn, black everything else out but the server room,” Rogers commanded.

“How about emergency systems? A fire could break out from what I’m about to do and sprinklers won’t turn on,” Evelyn said nervously.

“ _Bah, it’s HYDRA. Who are we trying to save?_ ” Stark said, hearing the conversation through comms.

“I don’t know, Tony. _Ourselves_?” Evelyn said. She could see the conflict on Steve’s face. Cutting emergency systems off meant they were no better than HYDRA, but leaving them on was keeping a viper alive to keep biting.

“Widow, how much longer?” Steve said urgently.

“Not in seconds, Cap. They did a better job in protecting themselves than we thought. Would be quicker with another pair of hands,” Nat said. Evelyn could hear the stress in her voice as she glued her sight to her task.

“ _Extra pair of hands and a UI on the way_.” Stark said through the comms.

“Be my guest, Da Vinci,” Nat muttered. “With Stark and J.A.R.V.I.S., we’d be done in seven minutes.”

Evelyn looked back at Rogers for instruction.

“Take them out,” Rogers nodded.

Then Evelyn performed what she thought was mass short circuiting. She let the river of electricity flow again, and the emergency lights returned to the white glow of the normal lights. In the next second, the sound of a soft jet and the clanking of metal hit their ears as Stark landed at the threshold of the server room.

“ _We just went back to normal power, I think you did your job wrong, Evie_ ,” Stark said.

“I think you should come here and do it then,” Evelyn muttered, as she brought her left foot back to steady herself.

To shut Stark up, she pulled as much energy as she could, and the lights above glowed past its threshold and shattered. Evelyn could feel her body get excited as energy flowed through her. She either needed to punch multiple things or throw up with this much energy. She could hear Barton exclaim in her ear piece, and saw Rogers jump at the sight of lightbulbs shattering and sparks flying.

“ _I'm sorry Stark said that, Evelyn, have mercy on us_ ,” Barton joke-pleaded through comms.

Then she pushed the energy back through the power lines as fast and as much as she could. The building went back to emergency power, then she rerouted the backup generator power to just the server room.

“How you like them apples, Tony?” Romanoff smirked. Evelyn turned back to her and saw her grinning as her eyes whizzed along her screen.

“ _The apples have all redirected to the server room_ ,” Stark said, still in the suit, probably monitoring the power levels through the graphics J.A.R.V.I.S. had given him.

“ _We’re all nice and in the dark here upstairs_ ,” Barton said.

Then Tony stepped out of the suit, “ _Alright, J.A.R.V.I.S., we want everything they got_.”

The UI responded with a “ _Yes, sir_.”

“Still multitasking?” Romanoff asked Evelyn, but she never took her eyes off the screen on the briefcase.

While Evelyn evaluated her sixth sense, it was then that the power surge hit her in the form of lightheadedness. She felt her arm steady herself with a nearby wall. “The building was bigger than I thought,” she said with her eyes shut, and laughed to herself.

She leaned against a nearby wall, feeling its coldness and focused on it to keep from passing out.

“Evelyn, you okay?” she heard Rogers’s voice, and a hand on her shoulder.

She was losing the grip she had on the electricity around her, and her senses were dulling, but she said “Yeah, I just need air. I'll head for the emergency generator outside.” When Steve and Nat didn't protest, Evelyn followed her senses up some stairs and through a door."

“ _Everything is still according to plan, how the hell did we manage that?_ ” Romanoff quipped through the comms.

“ _It must be the city. Kolkata is trying to purge the disease that is HYDRA_ ,” said Barton in a voice that mocked that of a preacher. Evelyn looked up at the roof, squinting at the Indian sunlight scattering through the cloudy sky, and saw Barton, his hands up as if screaming at the gods.

It was the Phase 2 of the plan that was in near completion, and the agents in the base hardly put up a fight. This was Evelyn’s first mission had gone smoothly, beginning from purposefully getting caught by HYDRA agents and letting the Avengers in by putting the base in emergency power to Natasha and Stark’s successful breach of encrypted data bank before HYDRA destroyed it.

Usually, the plan went out the window the moment the assignment begun, but Evelyn followed through with her orders: keep the building on blackout and reroute emergency power to the server room.

“Status update on the interns?” Evelyn dared to distract the Team.

“ _Still tailing. HYDRA guy might have dipped once we attacked this base_ ,” Nat said, her voice flat in focus on the tech in front of her.

When Evelyn didn’t express her clear dissatisfaction with that answer, Cap came on, “They can take care of themselves.” He spoke in between huffs and grunts as he threw punches and caught his shield. “ _Plus, Joanna’s there. She’s an old timer_.”

“ _Not as old as you_ ,” Stark came on, and that released the other half of worry that Cap managed not to talk out of Evelyn.

Evelyn heard the commotion of the usual fights between the Avengers and less skilled HYDRA agents as she stared at the emergency generator and the blue veins that it produced that disappeared into the building. While her job of guiding those blue veins into the proper place— along with keeping Kolkata’s power grid from supplying this building with electricity—was strenuous, it was still boring. There was the occasional HYDRA agent that would make his or her way around the corner, but Barton would always be the first and last to attack them with a whistle of an arrow.

“ _We’re not out of the woods yet_ ,” Rogers said. “ _Nat, Stark, how much longer_?”

Nat sighed exasperatedly, “ _Keep asking and I just might let HYDRA take their shit back_.”

“ _Relax, Widow_ ,” Stark said. “ _He’s an old man, lived a hundred years, he can be impatient_.”

“ _Oh, yeah, Cap. Be patient like Thor_ ,” Barton said through a mocking smile.

Evelyn scoffed, “Give or take a couple centuries.”

Barton then spoke in a terrible British accent, trying to sound like Thor, “ _Observe, Steven. Five HYDRA bases and not a whiff of the scepter. Yet I do not pull my hair out in impatience_.”

Stark laughed, “ _Come on guys, he’s not here to defend himself_.”

“ _Sorry to interrupt, but we’re_ definitely _not out of the woods, a signal just went out for reinforcements_ ,” Romanoff said, monitoring their activity.

“ _Eve, I thought you cut them off?_ ” Stark questioned.

“I _did_ ,” Evelyn retorted.

Romanoff interrupted what was going to be some form of a lecture from Stark, “ _It wasn’t from the building. Radio signal_.”

Stark snorted, “ _Ancient for a HYDRA base. No wonder this was easy. How’d you catch that?_ ”

“ _I have a scanner running_ ,” Nat said.

“How ‘bout you, sir? Find anything?” Evelyn asked. This was a raid mission after all, the Kolkatan base had to have _something_.

Evelyn heard chuckles throughout comms pointing at her tendency to call Rogers “sir.” Primarily because she was intimidated by his military rank that Stark insists isn’t real because he was never really promoted.

“ _The usual S.H.I.E.L.D. property, nothing at large_ ,” Rogers said, his disappointment coming across the comms.

“ _Another low-tier base_ ,” Romanoff muttered.

Barton said, “ _You just had high expectations for the low bar that the last base set_.”

“ _Uh…_ ” Stark came through, trepidation in his voice. “ _Incoming_.”

“Incoming _what_?” Evelyn demanded.

Before Stark could answer, there were sharp voices of command to her left. A line of armed guards had begun to surround the building. In the same second of spotting them, they fired at Evelyn and she barely had time to duck behind the emergency generator. For a moment, she forgot her job as bullets whistled past and buried themselves on the wall.

“ _Incoming reinforcements_ ,” Barton said.

In a slit of a window where the building’s wall and the ground met, she saw the lights turn on and off again as she got a handle on the building’s electricity.

Everyone took notice of the electric fluctuation, but Nat spoke up first, “ _Is Evelyn hit_?” Her voice was louder than it should be. It meant she stopped working.

Evelyn felt a sudden sharpness on her right side as she tried to stand. It was a nick on her ribs, but give it time and everything would be over. She placed her left hand on her side, trying to stop the leak. She caught her breath as much as she could with each painful inspiration and shut her eyes in concentration.

In those few seconds, the screaming through the comms came back with the question of whether or not she’d been hit.

“No, no, I’m okay, just caught off guard. Sorry, I got it,” Evelyn apologized with a lie, eyes shut, hand on the graze. 

 There was a flurry of speech and battle cries in the comms, and it was hard to follow any conversation. Still, Evelyn tried to find commands for her. There was a breach on the third floor, the science sector, where Rogers had found old S.H.I.E.L.D. property. Steve's voice petered out as left the server room to occupy himself with HYDRA reinforcements. Stark had begun to scold Romanoff on how she was decrypting the data, and she was yelling back. Barton was silent. Evelyn saw pure concentration in his fluid actions as he knocked down enemies coming for her.

No one said anything to her, she’d have to fight for herself.

As much as it hurt to move, Evelyn peeled herself off the safety of the generator’s wide protection and stood. She turned the corner, and mustered energy in her hand to shock the nearest rogue. Then she turned back into the protection of the generator. She counted the bio-electric activity around her, and her heart dropped as her brain came up with the estimate. About 27 armed agents stood out there.

“Legolas, how many arrows you got left?” Evelyn said through the chaotic comms, trying not to sound injured.

“Just sent out my last one,” he said, an explosion following the hit of the arrow. Bio-electric activities down to 25.

_Shit._

“Well,” Evelyn said, turning the corner again. This time she let go of her wound and used her two hands to for 25 simultaneous energy overloadings and 25 body drops. “I thought I needed your help but I think I'm good."

Before Evelyn could confess her wound, a scream came on the comms, “ _Strider is down. Sahara is compromised._ ”

It was Aulani, her voice was broken like hell, her breaths irregular.

“ _What the hell happened_?” Nat scolded.

“ _I don’t know, I don’t know,_ ” Aulani sobbed. “ _The guy we were following, he led us to some compound and another fucker told me to shoot Strider. I don’t know where Joanna went, I—_ ”

“ _What?_ ” No one could believe what Aulani was telling them.

But no one could question her any further.

“ _I’m here, at the base,_ ” Joanna’s voice broke the confusion. She sounded distracted, not all there.

“What,” Evelyn demanded an explanation. She tried to listen for anything but there was only silence. The gunshots had stopped, the sounds of fighting around her had stopped. She immediately took off to the lobby of the building, the only entrance they bothered not to cover since they blew it up.

“ _The helmet,_ ” Aragorn’s struggling voice came through.

“ _The helmet’s some kind of mind control device,_ ” Aulani continued. Her sobs had quieted now, flat in concentration. She might have been tending to Aragorn’s gun shot wound.

" _What helmet?_ _"_ Nat demanded.

Evelyn’s hunch was confirmed when she saw Joanna walk into the building holding a gun to her temple. Her back was to Evelyn, but she could see the distress. Joanna’s hands were shaking, and her chest was racking trying to contain sobs.

“ _Are you guys seeing this_?” Clint came through, seeing what Evelyn was seeing too.

“ _I’ll stay behind,_ ” Nat said in the comms.

Behind Joanna was a man in a cream-colored suit and nice shoes. On his head was a metal helmet that glowed blue where there weren’t wires and raised areas that Evelyn thought could be a power source she couldn’t reach.

She just had to get that.

“My good Avengers,” the man raised his hands as if he was some great showman. Evelyn walked slowly, stepping gently over the bodies and broken glass around her, silently picking her way.

Tony emerged from the sublevels without a suit, getting a look at the ruckus. Steve was behind him, ready to throw a punch or his shield, but didn’t move once he saw Joanna and her gun.

“I, Antelmo Carvajal, have a challenge for you,” the man continued.

“What makes you think we’re going to take it, Anteater?” Stark smirked, but Evelyn could still tell he was worried.

“Because,” the man laughed, “there are 14 mass destructive bombs all over this continent. So, you’re going to have to do as I say.”

A chill silence settled over them as they all tried to think of how to fix this.

And Evelyn stepped closer. She could almost reach out and grab it. But why did the 20 steps feel like miles?

“And if you don’t believe me, check third door to the left of the server room. Just a little sample of what’s in store,” the man said.

Steve and Tony gave each other a look before Steve flew to the basement.

Evelyn was close enough to feel the power source. She sent a shock to Joanna’s hand, and the gun fell from her hand. At the same time, Evelyn made for the helmet, pulling at whatever solid object was enclosed in her hand. She felt a full force connect with her chest, and her legs went sprawling. But she held on tight to the helmet, and it stayed with her hand when she got to her feet.

“Stop right there,” she heard the man.

Evelyn was about to laugh in his face. He didn’t have the device, he couldn’t control her. But she really looked, and the gun was in his hand, pointed at Joanna under his arm in a choke hold.

The man, Antelmo, faced her now. Of South American descent, his face seemed to be flat and expressionless. The smile that she thought he wore was gone now that he had to get his hands dirty to get what he wanted. He was just irritated now, and on the border of cracking.

“Anyone makes a move and I shoot,” the man tried to muster a smile, succeeding a brief flash of white teeth. To make good on that threat, he quickly discharged the gun on Joanna’s foot. Evelyn could only jump and hold her rage as Joanna screamed.

“I see you up there, Bird. Unstring that,” the man demanded to the air like a parent of a child.

“ _He’s made me,_ ” Clint said. “ _I can’t shoot._ ”

“ _What just happened?_ ” Cap demanded through the line.

Evelyn almost couldn’t hear them over Joanna’s irregular breathing, trying to get over the shock and the pain.

“ _Fucker’s got Joanna on a choke and shot her foot,_ ” Stark said from across the lobby, his voice tinted with angry helplessness. He and Evelyn just looked at each other and back at the man, trying to figure out what the hell to do next.

“ _The bomb’s real. I’m looking right at it,_ ” Cap declared. “ _We’re cleaning house, immediately._ ”

“ _Two more minutes, Steve,_ ” Nat pleaded with that flat focused voice.

“This guy’s not done with his monologue, you got more than two minutes,” Evelyn sneered.

“As I was saying before being rudely interrupted,” the man said. Antelmo, that was his name. “I have a challenge. And you just made this more interesting. A change of plans, but now…” he cackled. “Now, it’s just more interesting.”

The man started backing away from them, taking the safest path backwards.

Were they just going to let them get away?

“Meet me at my compound with my device,” Antelmo’s voice sent chills down Evelyn’s spine. It was as if he was some guy sweettalking someone else, convincing them to go home with him. “You can have your Agent then. And the locations of the bombs, of course.”

“ _Let’s talk about leaving this place, now_ ,” Steve said.

“ _I’m already out the backway. I’ll bring the jet to you,_ ” Nat said, there was a huff in her voice now.

Antelmo with Joanna backed up into a black car waiting for them. Why hadn’t she seen that? Why hadn’t she seen anything? Why hadn’t she done anything?

Evelyn just watched Joanna disappear into that black car with a gun to her head and a bleeding foot. And before she could think to pull the energy of the car and stop it from moving an inch farther, there was a hand on her elbow and her back, leading her far from the building.

It was Steve, and he was talking to her, his mouth was moving. She couldn’t hear him, though. She kept looking back at the disappearing car. Hawkeye joined the escape behind them, and overhead, Stark in his suit flew past them.

Evelyn’s feet were at a sprint now as Steve pushed her, but all she could see was the black car growing smaller, even past the flash of heat and the pillar of fire behind her as Steve pushed her into the jet. Even with Aragorn on the floor of the jet, holding on to life with his eyes on the ceiling, Aulani and now Hawkeye attending to him, all Evelyn could see was Joanna and how close she was. And now they were miles apart, and a million lives in between them.

 

* * *

 

 

Evelyn let everyone else’s movements lead her in and out of the jet. But once Stark and Banner stayed behind in the jet to run tests on the helmet, dropped off Aulani and Aragorn at the nearest hospital, and Nat went off to look for anything that could lead them to the bombs, Evelyn was left with Steve and silence. At that moment, she felt antsy, but she couldn’t do anything.

“What now?” Evelyn asked Steve for something, anything, to distract her from everything inside that could eat her up. “We can’t just do nothing, right? There has to be something we can do. Infiltrate Antelmo’s compound, look for the bombs, give him the helmet, something.”

She looked at Steve, but he only looked ahead.

“Cap,” she demanded, grabbing his arm before he could lead her into the safehouse any further. “How can you be so calm right now?”

He didn’t pull away from her grip. He only dropped his shoulders and sighed, “Someone has to be calm out of both of us.”

That freaked her out more. That wasn’t something anyone said unless there was some real crisis that needed calm.

Evelyn almost screamed, “What—”

Steve took his arm away from her grip and grabbed her by the shoulders, “You have to be ready, Evelyn. You have to be ready to lose Joanna and everyone else on this Team. I know it’s hard to do that, and we’re going to do our best not to lose anybody. But whether it’s now or later, we’ll have to make a hard call where not everybody comes out of it.” His voice wasn’t harsh or scolding. Just gentle, trying not to break the fragility in front of him.

Evelyn almost did break as she tried to stutter out a reply and blink away the tears, but Steve continued, “We can’t do anything until Nat or Tony or Bruce or Clint tells us where to start. But when they do, we’ll put everything into it to make sure everyone does come out of it alive. Do you understand, Evelyn?”

“ _Cap, I got something,_ ” Nat’s voice came through the comms.

Steve waited for anything from Evelyn, a nod, anything that indicated she understood. When a second passed and she did nothing, he gave her a squeeze on the shoulder before turning away.

Evelyn turned the other way, back towards the quinjet, and made a call.

Aulani picked up immediately.

“ _Evelyn_?”

“I’d ask about Strider, but we need to go after this fucker,” she felt the rage soak her whispers.

“ _Stop right there_ ,” Aulani said. “ _I’m in_.”

“I’ll pick you up shortly,” Evelyn said as she entered the quinjet through the bay door.

“ _Off the books, good_ ,” Aulani said without a hint of qualms.

Stark and Banner looked up from the helmet and the holograms surrounding them. “Evelyn?” Tony said, his voice was soft, as if a bad thing had already happened and he was trying to keep her from screaming.

Evelyn pulled electricity from the nearest power source and her hand crackled angrily with the amount of energy she held. “The easy way or the hard way?”

 

* * *

 

### The Crosssroads

 

#### November 21st, 2014. Santa Monica, California

Maria had told her to go to Merlotte’s Restaurant. Evelyn followed Hill’s instructions: go in, grab the table closest to the service doors, order some mozzarella sticks to start the meal, and wait.

Maria didn’t give instructions about drink, so Evelyn was parched three minutes after she refused a glass of water from the waitress. So, she had ordered ahead for the damn mozzarella sticks, as per Hill’s instructions.

Evelyn had spent a good 20 minutes in the dim light restaurant, running her free hand on the coarse white table cloth, watching waiters and waitresses and bus boys pass through the swinging door to the other side of the restaurant where she wasn’t allowed in, smelling different scents from the kitchen. Bio-electric activity came and went, those static ones belonging to other customers in the building. It was hardly a loud place, with only buzzing conversations at mid-tone and the constant clinking of utensils. There was a bar where Evelyn expected rowdiness, but she supposed everyone preferred to be served alcohol at their tables. She was eating her third stick and just starting to think Hill just set her on this place to have a nice meal on her when a man plopped down on the seat in front of her.

“Those were for me,” said the man, helping himself to a mozzarella stick generously dipped in the provided marinara sauce. His voice was familiar, and so were his mannerisms and the way that he stared down at her through one eye.

Evelyn’s heart immediately went to her throat. Hill should have specified what this was going to be, though she didn’t know anything else she could have done to prepare for this meeting. Her hands shook off the damping bracelet on her wrist and her hand drilled fingers under the table, ready to pull energy around the building and flee the scene.

Nick Fury sat in front of her, wearing a baseball cap to barely hide his eye patch and a sweater underneath a navy blue jacket.

“I’m not dead, if that’s what you’re going to say,” he said, chewing his mozzarella stick.

She couldn’t feel a second eye producing the right amount of bio-electric activity. She’d only felt that twice in her life, and once was when Nick Fury personally denied her entrance into the Academy, and the other was in that other world, Steve sat beside her, and Joanna was just outside with the woman named Sarah. There was no way to tell if she was back there. Everything here was almost the same as there, only Evelyn wasn't in the other world, and Steve and Stark were dead.

_Jesus._

She just stared at Fury instead, waiting for an explanation, all the while chewing his food. Crying at the spot and spitting out the mozzarella stick was the other alternative.

Fury, on the other hand, didn’t look her in the eye as he ate and shed his coat on the back of his chair. The sweater was bare now, screaming “HAPPY HOLIDAYS” in green and red letters with an additional embroidered Santa and his reindeer.

“Anything I can get you two?” the waitress suddenly appeared, pen in hand.

Fury began to order a full course meal, starting with the soup of the day.

“And anything for you, ma’am?” said the lady after Fury’s orders took up a whole page on her pad.

Before she could say no, Fury ordered her a strawberry waffle after asking if they still served breakfast. Then he asked for a glass of water for both of them.

When their food arrived, Evelyn stared at her waffle while Fury politely sipped his soup.

“I know you’re wondering why you’re here,” he said, in between spoons of soup.

“I’m still wondering if you’re real or I just used a projection of you to order a bunch of food for myself,” Evelyn muttered, finally picking up her fork and knife.

“Pyramids,” Fury said without looking up from his soup, without changing his tone. Like it was a well-known fact.

“What?” she asked. Was she hearing things now? Stroking out? Was she dreaming?

“ _Pyramids_ ,” he said with more emphasis.

Then she remembered.

_“Oh, and Akari,” Maria Hill called out to her before she could push open the glass doors that led out of her office._

_Evelyn turned._

_“Pyramids,” Hill just said, then looked back down to her paper work, eyebrows returning to their furrow from before she started giving Evelyn instructions._

There was no one else in that room to have possibly known about this word. Even if the room was bugged, how would they (whoever ‘they’ was) how and when to use it.

Evelyn relaxed a little, donning her damping bracelet again before taking the first bite from her waffle.

“And if I wasn’t who Hill meant you to meet, then I couldn’t possibly be handing you this,” Fury said and she felt something thin jab her in the knee under the table.

She grabbed the thing from under, a file, and placed it on her lap. She left it closed though, and resumed eating her waffles.

 “What is it?” Evelyn was excited now, not in a good way. She kept eating her waffle though, not looking up.

“Do you recall how I supposedly died?” he asked for the fact nonchalantly, like asking for a mutual friend’s name that he had long forgotten.

She nodded, “Assassination from the Big H. Alleged. Didn’t stick. Obviously.”

“Right,” he swallowed a piece of fish, grimacing. “It’s not about that, it’s about the one that did it. The Winter Soldier. Real name: James Buchanan Barnes.”

Evelyn paused, almost recognizing the name. Then it clicked. She’d seen it once at Cap’s wing at the Smithsonian, “Captain-Rogers’s-dead-best-friend-from-World-War-2 Barnes?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed. “Turns out, he’s been HYDRA’s go to for making people disappear.”

She let that sink in. The only Howling Commando to give his life in action didn’t give his life in action. He was still kicking, and kicking for the wrong team.

“I’m assuming Cap knows?” she finally spoke after a long thinking silence. Her voice was smaller than she’d liked.

“He’s the first one of us to find out,” Fury said, poking into his fish with a fork.

Evelyn resumed with her waffle, mind uneasy now, “Okay. What about this guy?”

“I’ve been digging around, reaching out. And I think I’m 89% sure on his indefinite location,” he said, stopping to look at her now.

“So?” she stopped too and watched him watch her.

“You’re being reassigned to this case. Location confirmation and recruitment,” he took a stab. He saw the disbelief in her face for a split second then went back to his meal.

If she was eating, she would have choked, but instead she spoke, “Wh… I... _Shit._ ”

Before she could form a complete sentence, the waitress, Julia, dropped by, “And here are the broiled lobster tails for you sir. And your cheesecake is coming right up.”

After Fury thanked her and she walked away, Evelyn unleashed her worry, “Don’t you think Captain fucking America would do a better job at bringing in his best friend?”

“Hill has personally chosen you to take on this mission. It’s on the DL, only three people know about it and two of those people are eating dinner here,” Fury resumed. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

 _Shit._ “Why me? I am the least qualified person for this job,” Evelyn pleaded.

“From what I can know you can do, you are the _only_ person qualified for this job,” he said, digging into his lobster. “Rogers will be pulling his punches, and when it comes down to it, he won’t be able to do what is needed.”

Evelyn now choked on her waffle, “You want me to—”

Julia came through the service door with a saucer of cheesecake, caramel zig-zagging on the surface, chopped nuts drizzled on top. She placed the plate on the few free spots on the table. “Anything else I can get you?”

Evelyn shook her head, “I think we’re fine. We’re fine, right?” She looked at Fury but did not wait for a response, “Yes, we’re great. Thank you, Julia.”

The waitress walked off with a tired smile.

“He’s either on our side, or he’s not,” Fury did not hesitate to continue the conversation as he pointed at her with a lobster juice dipped finger, pausing from his meal. His eye was staring down at her, determined.

“So you want me to fucking take him _out_?”

“Precisely,” he said nonchalantly, returning to his lobster.

Evelyn stuttered another attempt at refusal, but Fury interrupted, “You are the hunter, the Hercules, aren’t you? The one working for our side?”

“What even is _our side_?” Evelyn waited a beat before saying the next thing, “S.H.I.E.L.D. is over. And I’m sure as hell my employer, Stark Industries, aren’t about taking in a historical and international assassin wanted in multiple countries, which includes all of the countries that the Industries are operating in.”

“Our side, Ms. Akari, is the good one. It’s not any institution. It’s just the one that won’t let a very important asset into the wrong hands,” he scolded her.

Her head was hot now, “Why are you addressing him like he’s a weapon?”

“He _is_ a weapon,” he defended.

“He’s a human being. And if he’s stayed hidden since Triskelion, it’s likely he wants to stay hidden. The last thing he wants is a recruitment into whatever cause you’re bringing up,” she said.

 _Just leave. Get up, drop the files, and leave_.

Yet, she was still sitting, letting the paper in the manila folder burn a hole in her leg while she ate her waffle.

“What he wants doesn’t matter if HYDRA is still out there. You just need to bring—”

 “I…I can’t do that. I cannot physically do anything you require of me,” she stuttered, and she felt the process of tears work its way into her face, nose tingling, jaw tightening, eyes stinging.

Fury sat back and took his glasses off.

“Hill told me about Kolkata,” she couldn’t help but stare at his eyes. They had that same sympathetic look everyone had. Evelyn looked away, fearing she might scream.

She felt her nails digging into her palm, and suddenly her face was hot with anger. She was afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d start spitting fire.

“None of that was in your control,” his voice was soft, consoling her. Cap had told her the same thing, everyone had told her the same thing. But she knew her truth.

Evelyn shut her eyes and tried not to shatter her teeth, “You weren’t there.”

“I didn’t need to be there. Aulani told me everything, too.”

“She was passed out,” Evelyn spat.

“Not for the last of it,” he said. He wasn’t trying to one up her, just helping. That was what she tried to do, look where it got her. Where it got everyone.

“Just stop.”

“What Joanna did was her choice, you can’t blame yourself for that,” he didn’t stop. “No one could’ve stopped that.”

“I could've. I should’ve. And I didn’t. That’s why I can’t do what you want me to. Picking me is setting yourself up to fail,” Evelyn said with finality. She tried not to break down in this very public restaurant in front of the nice waitress.

Fury opened his mouth, but Evelyn interrupted. “Whatever you need me to say to Barnes, whatever you need me to do, Steve Rogers can do better,” Evelyn said, digging a fork into his uneaten cheesecake, taking a huge piece and shoving it in her mouth.

She wiped the corners of her mouth mid-chew and slid out of the booth, “Bill’s on you. Hill didn’t instruct me to bring money.”

Then she walked out of the establishment, but not before fishing out a $10 from her pocket and handing it to Julia as they passed each other.

A cool breeze of Santa Monica winter slapped Evelyn’s cheeks as she stepped out of the door. She hugged her jacket tight, and it was then she realized she took the file with her.

But her feet didn’t turn her around, her mind did not resist. She just walked to her car and began her 30-minute drive home while the brown folder shone like a beacon at the corner of her eye on the front seat.


	5. 5. Moldova

#### December 1st, 2014

It’s been almost 2 weeks since Evelyn had taken the folder from Fury at the restaurant in Santa Monica and Hill’s briefing and debriefing. Two days after that, Evelyn took a one-way plane to Moldova, and she’s been circling a district in Balti for a week now.

_“You need to be quick. He only stays in one place for a month at most, a couple days at the least. You never know when he’ll fly,” Hill instructed._

It was in the fifth day in town that she started to circle the Casa Raut, a 6 floor 2-star hotel on a busy market street. She’d heard from Fury’s source who sought out a local gang leader whose cousin dealt high quality crack to a Casa Raut housekeeper’s brother’s wife’s sister-in-law that there may or may not have been a man checked in for three and a half weeks with a shady attitude. Kept to himself, was hardly in his room, and when he was, he was as silent as a mouse and didn’t order the sketchy room service.

Evelyn usually didn’t act on such shaky intel, but there had been several exposures of HYDRA agents around Eastern Europe. She contacted old S.H.I.E.L.D. agents watching and seeking HYDRA rats, but they all confessed that the renegades had been gift wrapped to them.

Balti was the 83% guaranteed location of James Barnes that Fury had given her in the file. But it was the 100% certain location of HYDRA agent directly connected to the Clairvoyant and Senator Stern, Sasha Kingsley, birth name Saskia Kleiber. The consistencies behind James Barnes’s unsure locations were the HYDRA agent exposures. When something happened, there was always a chance that he was there. S.H.I.E.L.D. always found traces of him. The certainty ratio Balti, 83 by 100, was the closest it had ever been in Fury’s search.

Kleiber had been exposed two days ago, and was already extradited to the United States for prosecution. Evelyn tailed Kleiber and her undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. detail until their plane for the states had departed, and that was when she noticed the other tail. Whoever it was was doing so to see the job through.

It was in the sixth day in Balti that she started to close in on the exposer’s location, the Casa Raut’s fourth floor. There were only two fire escapes in the building, and one of the fourth floor ones opened into a room belonging to an old lady who’s been living in the hotel for 8 years now, according to the Casa Raut housekeeper that Evelyn paid off to talk and to shut up at the right time.

And it was in the sixth day that Evelyn shed the Faraday bracelet and knocked on the door. She felt the electricity around the building and latched on to it just in case things got bad. Then she felt the electricity in the room. But there was nothing but a television.

No bio-electric energy.

That sent a panic in Evelyn’s chest and she kicked the door down. The door frame shattered at the kick, and Evelyn rushed in. She spotted the open window, the fire escape, and the brick wall of the next building.

“Shit,” she muttered and immediately gave chase.

While Evelyn ran up the fire escape, she thought about what she did wrong. She kept a safe distance from the airport, bought three nights on the sixth floor room with the fire escape with a believable identity, and the well paid housekeeper feeding her information each night. Something must have gone wrong.

Despite the fact that Evelyn wanted to sit down on the stairs and cry and maybe call Hill that she was quitting, she gave chase. Eventually landing on the roof. She saw a running figure in the dark, barely illuminated in the moonlight, leaping on to the next roof. Her legs took off after the figure, her right arm outstretched, trying to lock into the figure’s bio electric activity. The edge of the roof was a hair’s breath away, and Evelyn was sure she could make the leap. She just had to lock on to the runner.

But when she did, what she felt startled her enough to falter her steps. Her heels tried to stop, but the edge called to her. Only the force of herself pushing herself back kept her from careening down the ledge of the hotel roof. When she stood up, the runner was gone.

It was moments before that she confirmed the figure she was chasing was James Barnes. The human body has about 100 billion neurons creating constant electrical impulses. The figure she almost locked into had less and more. Less human neurons, more machine relays.

She pulled her phone out and dialed the secure line to Hill.

It only rang once until her stern voice came through, beginning with her code name whenever the secure line was being used, “ _This is Scots_.”

“It’s Galvani,” she confirmed the conversation with a correct exchange of code names. “I lost him. I’m sorry,” Evelyn’s voice quivered at the confession.

“ _You found him_?” Hill said.

She breathed, preparing for a scolding, “No, ma’am. I lost him. I gave chase and I lost him.”

The tears were running down her face. Why was she so scared? Her throat was tight, preventing her from blabbing a five-minute apology.

“ _That was him, then? The Winter Soldier_?” Hill didn’t seem to understand Evelyn’s failure.

Still, Evelyn nodded, even though Hill couldn’t see her, “Yes, I’m certain. BEA composition like that, there’s no denying the dude’s a cyborg.”

“ _Good work, Galvani. A confirmation was all we needed you to do. Report to the Industries ASAP for debriefing_ ,” Hill’s voice comforted her, but Evelyn knew a location confirmation was only the first of things.

“No way, I still have to find the guy. That’s what I was supposed to do,” Evelyn complained, her throat was open now, ready for an argument.

“ _Akari_ —”

“I can still do this. Listen, I need the names of surrounding S.H.I.E.L.D. Watchers in the area. The pattern was obvious. Old HYDRA insurgents in the area ticked off like a list. He’s bound to hit someone next near here,” Evelyn took off the roof, and down the fire escape. She entered her own room on the 6th floor, the window only succumbing to a light jimmying of the lock.

“ _Akari, there’s no one else_ ,” Hill said quietly.

That froze Evelyn at the spot, “You’re telling me that Saskia Kleiber was the last HYDRA agent hiding out in Eastern Europe?”

“ _That’s ridiculous, of course not. There could be hundreds just in the East. But Saskia Kleiber was the last one that couldn’t hide very well. All S.H.I.E.L.D. Watchers in the East were extracted because of cold trails_ ,” Hill confessed.

“Kleiber was the last,” Evelyn said to herself, trying to convince herself of the failure.

“ _Head to the extraction point, Akari. You're done for now. Come home_ ,” said her superior before the line clicked dead.


	6. 6. Scientific Method

#### March 6th, 2014, 8PM

Evelyn grabbed another piece of teriyaki chicken with a fork from the Styrofoam box on the table that separated her from Barnes. He reached in after her with the chopsticks that he made a point of knowing how to expertly handle and took more threads of chow mein.

For a while, they sat in silence, eating their food, just listening to the bustle of the street below. Then she broke the silence, “I think I’m ready.”

Barnes stopped chewing and let her words sink in. There was that look of relief mixed with fear again that he wore whenever she brought this up, which was every day. Then he resumed chewing, and looked at her, “Are you sure?”

The moment he asked, she wasn’t so sure. She was this afternoon when she successfully diagnosed the ailments of a really damaged computer with her abilities for the 20th time in a row without shorting it out or it exploding on her. She had already found the sweet spots of her powers that allowed her to do so, the right frequencies and voltage outputs. She could see the damaged components of the computers in her head, where the blue river flowed and trickled and where it was blocked, what she needed to point out to the engineer for it to be fixed. She could now just watch the river instead of changing the flow and shorting out circuits. But now that the person she would have to diagnose sat in front of her, she wasn’t so sure.

Still, Evelyn nodded, shoving food into her mouth to avoid the slightest downturns of the corners of her mouth to betray her sudden uncertainty. Barnes knew what to look at.

“It’s already become muscle memory for me, or sensory memory,” she said.

“Okay, but can you finish chewing before you talk,” Bucky said, a playful displeasure on his face.

She obliged, twisted her water bottle open and chugged until the food went down. When her mouth was empty and a bad feeling was left on her chest, she spoke, “I really am ready. It’s been more than two months and—”

“You can’t rush yourself with this, Evelyn, no matter how much I bug you about it.”

She closed her eyes, “I know, I know. But don’t you get the feeling that we’re sitting ducks here? The sooner I can do this; the sooner you can get better. The less you can get worse.”

Bucky stopped eating again, setting his chopsticks down on his plate on his lap. They both knew he wasn’t getting any better. She could hear him across the hallway, sometimes on her couch, talking in his sleep, his voice escalating to a screaming until Evelyn finally broke in and woke him up. It was so frequent that the apartment key that he gave her that she kept taped on the underside of the dining table was exposed on the stand next to the door.

“I can deal with it,” he quietly muttered.

Over the past three months, Evelyn has gotten better at detecting his lies, thought they were kept to the minimal, just as he was getting better at detecting hers. This was one of those instants.

Evelyn scoffed, and took a sip from her water, “Look, Barnes—”

She saw him cringe under his skin, a subtle thing. Then she corrected herself, “—Bucky. Look, I really am ready. I’m more ready than I am scared, and I’m scared as shit, okay?” There was a complete calm in her voice, like there always was when she reassured him.

“You _cannot_ keep dealing with what you’re dealing with, not as long as I can help, okay?” she said, stronger now so that it was like her voice kept his eyes trained on hers.

There was that relief and that fear again, only this time he put a smile up and had Evelyn smiling in a second too. “Yeah, okay,” he said quietly.

“Okay, good,” she said, relaxing, not knowing she was tensed up.

“I’ll come by after work tomorrow night. We can start then,” he said nervously.

“When _don’t_ you come by after work?” Evelyn said, coaxing a chuckle out of him. “Let’s just hope no one invents some kind of mutant cure tonight and looks to test it tomorrow on some strangers.”

She earned a louder chuckle from him.

They ate their take out dinner in silence, both restless for the tomorrow night’s task. The Bucharest night below them continued like usual, disregarding the different forms of uneasiness that a specific apartment balcony was feeling. The night carried on breathing like normal, disregarding the breaths that Evelyn and Bucky both held.

 

#### March 7th, 2015, 8PM

A knock came on the door, and Evelyn’s heart almost choked her. She leapt out of the couch to check on the visitor, but the clinking of keys and the turning of the knob followed shortly after. Barnes emerged from outside and quickly closed the door behind him. Why had she forgotten that he always knocked before using his keys?

They both stood for a second, frozen, staring at each other. Evelyn’s heart was pounding in her skull, hands shaky, asking herself if she really was ready for this. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Where do you want me?” Bucky said, dropping his things by the door and slipping his shoes off like she always scolded him about.

 _Shit_. Evelyn had been screaming inside about the diagnostic process so much that she hadn’t thought about the conditions they would be in.

Bucky laughed, as if seeing the sheer panic in her face. Was she that transparent now?

“The couch?” he asked.

Evelyn shrugged, but relief flooded in, “Whatever’s comfortable.” She dragged a chair from the dining table and propped to the side of the couch so that they faced the same direction as Barnes laid down on the couch.

Then there was a standstill. They were in position. The process would begin. Either Evelyn would come out figuring out how to figure out Barnes’s neurological problems or how to get rid of his lifeless body. Either way, she would be coming out with a question and an update to Fury. One she would need to ask Bucky for permission to do, the other, well…

Evelyn began the spiel she had prepared, “I’ll need contact with your temples, your cranium, forehead, in order to gain access to your brain. Is that okay?”

“Sure thing, doll,” Bucky said, his voice heavy with nervousness.

“I’ll let that go,” she said, briefly gaining an inkling of freedom from the nervously charged set of nerves she was.

Then she revealed the footnote, the asterisk, the disclaimer, “I don’t know if this will hurt. I have no idea how this feels. Computers don’t really have pain receptors, and if they do, they don’t have mouths to let me know they do. So, please, Bucky, the second you feel pain, you have to tell me to stop.”

He nodded. She couldn’t see his face to tell if he was thinking the opposite, but he agreed.

“Do you hear me?” she demanded now, realizing the gravity of what she might do. “Any feeling of—”

“Evie, I get it, pain equals I’ll-let-you-know,” Bucky got antsy, nodding his head vigorously so that his hair got mussed up against the couch.

Her nickname flew past her as her concerns grew, “Please, Barnes. I don’t know how the pain will affect you or your cells. If you just let it go, it might do more harm than good.”

“I promise,” he said calmly, quietly.

“Okay,” she said.

“What will I be doing while you’re doing your thing?” Bucky asked, like a child humbly asking for a cookie.

“Just…Do what you do when we’re eating dinner out there,” that was when he sat still in the quiet the most. “I won’t be able to read your thoughts, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m only testing the physical state of things. I can’t do _that_ anyway.”

He was silent at that, but it was as if he let out a breath of relief.

Then she placed her hands gently on his head, “I’m ready if you are.”

“Ready as hell,” he said, inhaling sharply, ready for the process to begin.

Evelyn closed her eyes and felt all the little veins of energy in his head and followed them. _Like a computer, like a computer._ The test went quicker than she thought, only lasted for at most two minutes since lightning quick electricity and all. She ran the test again, letting the blue river take her, making sure she wasn’t biased, that she wasn’t ignoring anything that she couldn’t fix. Then she ran the test ten more times, wanting to deny the things she saw. While Bucky just lay there, breathing deeply.

What she found made her nervous.

Evelyn retracted her hands from Bucky’s head and relaxed on the chair that was suddenly the most uncomfortable seat on the planet. She closed her eyes and thought about taking up Phil Coulson on his offer for help.

She heard Bucky shuffle on the couch, “Are you—”

“Yeah, I’m done,” she said, her eyes snapping open. “Sorry, how was that for you? Are you okay? Did anything hurt? Can you move?” She was shaking. Why the hell was she shaking.

It was pure confusion on his face, “I’m fine. What did you—”

She couldn’t stop talking as much as she couldn’t stop shaking. She got up to move, “Not the worst case scenario. Not the best either. It’s closer to the worst case… but, not that it’s bad, not that it’s good either. Jesus.” Evelyn bit her tongue to keep from rambling. She stood up, and paced the room.

“ _Evelyn_ , what is it?” Bucky stood up with her, a panic in his face.

 _Shit._ That was the last thing she wanted: panic from him.

Evelyn leaned against the kitchen counter, pressing her forehead against the edge of a cupboard. There was a silence between them, a charged one, one that Evelyn knew needed filling, one that Barnes was desperate to be filled.

She turned around and looked at him, his blue eyes piercing holes in her as they looked at her in worry and confusion and panic.

“I’m not a neuroscientist,” she confessed. “Whatever I’m about to say isn’t scientific. It’s what I saw, what I felt.”

“Evelyn,” he said, almost begging.

She nodded, “Everything is mostly intact. Obviously. You know how to tie your shoes, how to eat, motor functions, muscle memory, it’s all there.” She was waving her hands around incoherently, trying to draw a picture.

He nodded solemnly, kept his stare, swallowing, preparing for the punch that they both knew was coming.

“But some things aren’t all… there,” Evelyn almost choked. She didn’t give him the opportunity for that wrong word to sink in. She continued, “What I mean is that some of your nervous tissues aren’t accepting the electrical impulses that other tissues are passing on. They’re insulated, and they’re not supposed to be. It might be an easy fix but that means I have to start poking around.”

He nodded more vigorously, “That was expected wasn’t it? After the diagnostic stage, we would’ve had to move on from there. This is good, this is next step, isn’t it?”

Gods, he broke her. His eagerness, his desperation to stop feeling the way he was feeling.

Evelyn sat down on the dining chair again, “It’s uncharted territory. I can shoot you up with some electricity, with the right frequencies and voltage outputs, in order to enable impulses flowing again. But I don’t know what consequences it has or even if it will be successful at all.”

Evelyn felt the end nearing. She felt the end of her daily routine of going to the university a full hour after Bucky knocked on her door to indicate he was leaving for work. She felt the end of her daily “thank you” to the bus driver on the way home and the nightly conversation she had with the old lady with her bag of fruits that improved her Romanian. Her take out dinners with Barnes would end, and their races to get the balcony cleaned would end. She would ship out, and would need to find a new routine.

She sat back down just in case her knees would buckle.

Barnes interrupted her thoughts with a clearing of his throat, “We’ll just have to see then.” There was a different look on his face, one of determination that overshadowed the fear that they were both feeling.

And just like that, the destruction of her world was rebuilding like a tape rewinding. But she protested like she liked the idea of leaving, “But Barnes—Bucky, I don’t know how dangerous this will be—”

“Then we’ll just have to see,” he said, his voice stronger, as if scolding.

They stared at each other, letting the stalemate sink in. Then Evelyn got off her chair and placed it back where it belonged. She leaned against the table, taking his words in, and at the same time, having her thoughts run around. Yet only one question was swimming in her head: If she could successfully recalibrate his nervous tissue, what would the effects be?

There were too many possible answers, the ones she could think of put a bad taste in her mouth.

“I want you to explicitly say what you want,” Evelyn finally said after what felt like a year of silence. “Just to make sure you didn’t misunderstand the potentially fatal things I just told you.” Her eyes focused on Barnes now, who still looked at her with determination.

He took a step closer to her and gently but firmly put his hands on her shoulders, as if stabilizing her from the trembling from the anxiety she presented herself with. Was her nervousness about this whole thing actually making it out of her mind?

“Evelyn,” he began, looking deeply in her eyes. She didn’t know if he was about to scold her or spill all of his life secrets, but she kept her eyes trained. “I’m not a neuroscientist, nor do I have a grasp on this kind of thing like you do. But I’m asking you to use your powers to help me.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but, with a steady voice and determined eyes, he beat her to it, “I’ll do whatever it takes on my end, and I’m asking you to do the same. I’ll take whatever you can give me right now. I’ll take your best. Because right now, you’re the best chance I got.”

That was all she needed to swallow her nerves and her heart down and muster the willpower to go through with maybe killing him. “Alright,” she said, her voice was shakier than she wanted. She wanted to be strong. She was supposed to be the strong one between the two of them. She _was_ the doctor in this relationship. Doctors were supposed to be confident.

So, she repeated herself, straightening her posture and put her hands over Bucky’s, “Okay. Alright.”

A small smile crept across his face, behind it was worry and relief and excitement and fear. She couldn’t help but get infected.

Bucky dropped his hands to his side, shoving them in the pockets of his jacket, “When can we start?”

Evelyn’s stomach dropped, head exploding into a million questions again.

“With a few calls, I could probably get this operation running by the end of the week,” Evelyn was zoned out, only voicing her thoughts for his benefit.

She noticed her mistake when he suddenly stepped back, recoiling from her, face suddenly blank and afraid.

Before she could retrace her steps and evaluate her words, Bucky spoke, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Evelyn stuttered, “I’m groping in the dark here, Barnes. I’m going to need some help.”

He scoffed, “We had a deal. Just you, no one from S.H.I.E.L.D, no one from Stark Industries.” She knew he wanted to get as from her as he could, but he was frozen at the spot.

She couldn’t speak for a moment, recalling the conversation two months ago, “You must have some understanding of how scary this is, don’t you? One wrong move and you’d be gone. Hell, I don’t even know what moves I have to fucking make!”

Barnes laughed, unbelieving. He finally moved to grab his things by the door. Evelyn dared to grab him by the arm and demanded, “Do you have any trust in me?”

He froze.

“You said you did, just a little bit,” she continued. She could feel the electrical activity in his metal arm churning under her grip. “I need you to go on that.”

Barnes gently wrenched his arm off of her hand.

“If not in me, then in Rogers,” she dared say it out loud before he could reach for his things.

He froze again, then turned around. It was as if he broke before her eyes, then tried to piece himself back together as he attempted to look the least bit intimidating. But he was melted, and she knew it. She hated to see it.

She continued with a small voice, “The guy I’m calling. Phil Coulson. I know Rogers trusts him. So does Fury. Hell, the fate of the world could be riding on his shoulders right now.”

Barnes stared at her with that fear and longing and relief.

“One call,” she pleaded. Then she stuttered, “Two calls tops. Please, Barnes. I can’t do my best if you don’t help me.”

He didn’t hesitate to grab for his things, and Evelyn’s world fell apart again. She’d already started making a list of what to pack in her head when Barnes turned back around and tossed her the burner phone she gave him two months ago. She barely caught it with both hands and hugged it to her chest to prevent it from falling.

“I want the full story on this guy,” he quietly demanded. “Everything you know. And how you found me. Everything on that too.”

 

#### March 8th, 2015 2PM

At Evelyn’s insistence, Barnes headed to the agreed location first. At his insistence, he did it on foot so that Evelyn arrived at the same time he did. She was just less sweaty and smelled more like public transport.

“You know walking’s good for you?” he managed to quip after the finished climbing the emergency exit stairs all the way to the top. He was hardly out of breath, running at the pace of a public bus. For a brief second, Evelyn was jealous.

She looked over the edge of the rooftop to see the ant-sized public going about their business below, “I did walk here. Just once step, through a portal, then I was here.”

There was that amazed look with a hint of fear on his face after she’d told her about how she found him, but she only grinned, “I’m kidding. I smell like the bus I took here.”

The building they chose to rendezvous in, a 10-floor branch of an American based newspaper, BreakWire, was the one of many in the busiest areas in the city. If their position was ever triangulated, they wouldn’t be able to place it to any particular person in this square.

Barnes scanned the horizon, eyes squinted in the daylight. It was as if looking at each rooftop as far as he could see for any unwanted listeners. There was still a twinkle of wonder in his eyes, like he was seeing the city for the first time, like a man out of his time. It hit Evelyn that he actually was.

“How long do we have this place?” he asked.

“Long enough,” she said. She scanned their surroundings too, planning out escape routes if they were ever caught. So far, she only had one: down.

He rolled his eyes, “Are we just riding on luck here?”

A grin broke out from her face, “It was luck that got us here, Bucky-boy. Luck and the nifty things I can do.”

Evelyn took point infiltrating the building. It wasn’t that hard anyway. Just ask for the public bathrooms, sneak off to find the emergency staircase, and manipulate electrical signals at each security passcode box before each doors, making sure to pretend to be swiping a card, any card, for the security cameras if she failed to cut them off at the second she needed them to go off.

“Alright, let’s make this call,” Evelyn said, and Barnes tossed the burner phone at her.

They sat down, leaning against the roof ledge. Evelyn fished out her headphones from her backpack and plugged it in to the jack. She offered the left earbud to Barnes, and he slowly approached it before gingerly taking it from her.

She didn’t hesitate to shove the earbud in her ear with the mic on the wire, while Barnes observed it for a quick second before cautiously placing it in his ear as she dialed the number Maria Hill had given her for emergencies.

“Do you remember what I said? How I’m going to reach our contact?” she asked to reassure him that the number she was dialing wasn’t to out him to any authority.

Barnes nodded, “Through Maria Hill.”

“This is her number,” she let him read the digits on the burner phone. “It’s protected, I’m certain. Fury’s paranoia rubbed off on her a little, so you don’t have to worry about people listening in on her end,” she explained again, but he nodded like it was the first time he heard it. “The moment I feel something fishy, I’ll let you know and you have to leave.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but Evelyn interrupted, “I’m serious. The moment things go sideways, you run and you can’t tell me where you’re going.”

His thoughts were racing behind his eyes for a split second before he nodded. “And you?”

“Worry about yourself,” she muttered.

Then Evelyn pressed the green button, and it only rang once in their headphones before a voice blared in their ears: “Thank you for calling Stark Travel Agency, how may I assist you?”

It was Maria Hill in her best telemarketer voice.

Evelyn couldn’t resist grinning. Sure, Hill intimidated the shit out of her, but the act she put on was hilarious. Only, the panic on Bucky’s face wiped it off. _It’s okay_ , she mouthed. She had forgotten to explain the dialogue.

Evelyn cleared her throat, recalling the proper response, “Yes, I’m interested in seeing the pyramids. I hear the weather there is splendid.”

“What’s happening, Evelyn _?_ ” Hill’s voice suddenly changed back into intimidation, but concern and an almost undetectable amount of panic was present. There wasn’t any background noise, not even the shuffling of papers or the clack of computer keys. She was in her office, but full attention was on the call.

Her heart went to her throat like the way it always did when talking to her boss, “It’s not an emergency, but it’s an emergency.”

Hill scoffed, “What, did you need a money transfer? What did I tell you about using this number _—_ ”

“I need you to connect me to Coulson,” she said, immediately regretting interrupting Hill.

“Why do you _—_ ”

“Science stuff. I would call Stark, but unless he’s secretly an expert on a particular branch of biology, then he’s not my guy,” she pleaded. “Coulson has—”

“Fitz-Simmons _,_ ” Hill arrived at the conclusion. “What does this have to do with your _—_ ”

Evelyn didn’t let her finish the sentence, feeling Barnes tensing up beside her as if preparation for the word. “It has everything to do with this. Please, Hill, just get me through.”

There was a moment of silence from Hill, and both Evelyn and Bucky were tensing up, waiting for the hang up tone. Instead, they heard her sharply inhale, “Get Coulson’s number next time. I can’t be a switchboard operator _._ ”

Before Evelyn could thank her, the line began to ring, and that fear of nothingness began to set in again, abated by a “How did you get this number?”

“Coulson, it’s me, Evelyn, from—”

He interrupted, “Akari, you _are_ alive.”

Right. She never got back to them after accidentally disappearing from their base in Greenland, “What do you mean I _am_ alive? Did Hill never tell you?”

“She spared me the details. Classified, confidential, blah blah blah."

“Well, yes, I am alive. Unharmed, unbroken. Maria Hill patched me through to you,” she smiled.

“How do I know it’s really you?” Coulson said. She could almost hear the skeptical smile he was probably wearing.

 _Shit._ Why was everyone so paranoid? “What do you want me to say?” she asked, her voice all shaky from the nerves.

“Any small details that me or my team can confirm,” he said.

Her mind ran, “Please, Coulson, I just need to talk to your science team about certain concepts essential to the task Fury and Hill gave me.”

“I’m hanging up in three, two—”

“I opened a portal on accident. My shoe and a toenail was left behind. I think. I don’t know, it’s what I was missing when I crossed over,” she half screamed into the mic, and into the sky hoping her voice would carry all the way to Coulson’s location.

There was laugh on the other line, one that tried to contain a 5-minute long laughter into one breath, “I never heard the end of that story until now. We all thought you had been turned into a shoe and a toenail. Welcome back, Akari.”

“I never really left,” she couldn’t help but grin.

“Now, what did you need?” he said, almost irritated.

“Not to mooch off of you, but I just have a quick question for your science team,” Evelyn did her best to sound innocent, like a child asking their parent to use a computer for PG-13 PC games.

“Do I need to be worried about what you’re about to do?” he asked, but his voice suddenly pulled away from the phone with a “Get Fitz-Simmons in here now.”

“No, I’m the only one that needs to worry,” Evelyn said.

In the background, there was a slamming of a door and distant voices.

“I’m putting you on speaker,” Coulson said. “Talk, kids.”

“Fitz here,” the Scot’s flat voice came on.

“And Simmons,” was the companion. Evelyn could almost hear the smile and smell the strawberries.

“Now, everyone, do me a favor and don’t triangulate my location,” Evelyn said.

“Oh my god, Evelyn, you _are_ alive,” Simmons exclaimed on the other end.

“Bucharest, Romania,” said the Scotsman suddenly.

“Thank you for doing exactly what I said not to,” Evelyn calmed Bucky down with a look. They were at a busy square in a busy city in busy building hiding from security cameras. “But is my status up for debate there or something? Why is everyone surprised?”

Jemma snorted, “Coulson told us close to nothing. We thought he said you were alive just to prevent us from going after you.”

“We thought you had…” Fitz paused, trying to find the word, “ _turned_ into a shoe.”

Jemma sighed, “Or worse, teleported into some desolate dark place in the universe where your bra would strangle you if your body hasn’t already equalized to the pressure of space.”

There was a grim silence as that image took hold in their minds.

“This was a nice conversation,” Coulson broke the silence. “But I’m going to—”

The English interrupted, “Sir, you don’t—”

But in the background, the door had already slammed, and Evelyn heard an all too awkward silence on the other side of the line. Fitz cleared his throat in the silence. There was a look of confusion on Bucky’s face: _What’s up with these guys?_ To which Evelyn could only shrug.

“Anyway,” Evelyn finally said. “I have a problem.”

“Alright,” sighed Simmons.

“Yes, well. I’ve been analyzing this brain and everything was mostly intact—”

“Wait, what did you use for this analyzation?” said Simmons interrupted.

Fitz jumped in before Evelyn could say anything, “Her attunement to the electric… _interface_ of all living beings on the face of this Earth, probably.”

“That’s it, Fitz,” Evelyn confirmed.

“I’m assuming you used your abilities to analyze this brain you’re talking about? Used the electric activity in the brain?” Simmons sounded deep in thought.

“Yes. I sort of used computer processors as a test group. I saw the human body as sort of a computer, with the brain as the processing unit. If I could evaluate the bugs in a CPU just by tracking electrical activity, then I could do that with a brain,” she nervously explained. Her vocabulary was too basic compared to what these S.H.I.E.L.D. geniuses had.

“Would a central processing unit suffice as a control group?” Simmons asked Fitz, but sounded like she was talking to herself.

“Technically, yes. The control unit employs electrical signals to—” he cleared his throat. “Yes, it can suffice.”

“And how did your evaluation fare?” Simmons asked.

“No idea, I’m not a neuroscientist,” Evelyn said, repeating the fact for at least the fiftieth time this week. “But from my standpoint, this brain I evaluated had some neural pathways blocked. Like, they weren’t able to transmit electrical signals that they were receiving.”

There was a silence on the other end, but one of deliberation.

Then Simmons chirped, “Is this human alive?”

Evelyn could have laughed, but the question she was presented with was given in a serious tone, “Yes, of course.”

“How old is this person?” Simmons asked.

She looked at Barnes, and disabled the microphone with a twitch of her hand.

“ _28,_ ” he whispered in Romanian.

Evelyn had to think for a while, recalling her very rusty Romanian. Then she enabled the microphone again, and relayed the information, “Subject is 28 years old.”

“What happened? You were cut off for a second,” Simmons said, almost panicking.

“She disabled the microphone,” Fitz saw right through her. “Some sort of confidentiality paranoia. That’s why you chose a busy square to make the call in, isn’t it Akari?”

“Precisely,” Evelyn smiled.

“Are you sure these neurons aren’t…”

“—degenerated?” Simmons finished the sentence. “Some advanced form of Alzheimer’s?”

“I’m sure. The beta-amyloid and tau build ups were not present in the cavities between the neurons like it would be in such a brain,” Evelyn closed her eyes, recalling her basic research on brain diseases. “Subject presents well-functioning motor functions, and does not present motor or non-motor symptoms of Parkinson’s, so it’s not that. From what I could tell, the neurons were perfectly functional aside from the mentioned insulation.”

 “And now you seek treatment?” Simmons presented the question.

“I have a proposal, actually,” Evelyn said. “I was thinking; I could stimulate electrical impulses in these group of cells as an outside source. Maybe I could introduce electrical activity again.”

Fitz scoffed, “If these brain cells aren’t accepting its own impulses, what makes you think it will accept outside activity?”

Simmons defended the hypothesis, as if talking to herself again, “It could be the only thing it isn’t resistant to. Probably with the correct amount Coulombs, it could work. My question is does she stimulate with lower or high rates of electrical activity? Relative to the normal brain, of course.”

“Even if it would work, what would the effects be?” Fitz argued. “She could be… _stimulating_ the wrong neurons, and it would manipulate the body’s… _homeostatic_ nature. The subject could die if normal brain activity is interrupted.”

Evelyn almost choked at that. She could really kill him if she wasn’t careful.

“Would electrodes work? If Evelyn were able to reflect certain brain functions using special two way electrodes, would she be able to work on the neuron groups that she needs to?” Simmons asked.

“But to what are the effects of that, Jemma? Which brain functions would need to be reflected? How can the electrodes possibly know which brain functions to reflect?” the two scientists argued, and Evelyn could barely keep up.

Simmons was silent, thinking again.

“Do you think she could create a base neural network?” she asked after the silence. “Copy basic neural activity into a model and keep the subject connected to prevent—”

Fitz stuttered, but it wasn’t from struggling to find the word, but it was as if he was interrupting himself, vocalizing his thought process on what would and wouldn’t work. Then he finally said, “If she had the equipment. It’ll take time to condense what we have into something a civilian could use. No offense.”

Barnes was in a confused state, probably from the scientific lingo whizzing past their heads. But shrugged at Evelyn, giving her the green light.

“None taken. And all we have is time here, Fitz. You can take yours. Whatever it is you’re doing,” Evelyn said.

Simmons sighed, relieved.

“Jemma wants you to copy your subject’s brain activity into a model—”

“A connectome,” Simmons chirped brightly, almost excitedly.

“And you can figure out what’s wrong with your brain—”

“Your subject’s brain,” Simmons corrected. “You don’t even have to do anything to the brain. You just have to observe the model.”

But Evelyn didn’t trust that answer. She wanted more. And from the look of disappointment in Bucky’s face, he wanted a better answer too.

“Do you think I could stimulate this brain while the subject is connected to the model? To prevent disrupting homeostatic nature?” Evelyn voiced her question, her hypothesis, to which Fitz-Simmons responded with a good contemplative silence.

Then Fitz sighed, exasperated, frustrated, “In theory, yes it would. But in practice—”

“It is unorthodox and dangerous,” Simmons finished his sentence.

“Was my initial diagnostic experiment not unorthodox and dangerous?” Evelyn asked.

“Yes, and you and your subject are very lucky to come out of it alive,” Simmons said, reminding Evelyn of her anxieties before the evaluation.

But Fitz posed another problem, “There are too many variables. I can make you the tech to create the model and reflect basic brain functions, but what are the additional effects of your… tampering? You could trigger too many things. You could hit the wrong pain receptors, release the wrong… neurotransmitters, manipulate the wrong motor functions. Too many variables.”

“So, what can I do?” she finally asked, wanting a straight answer.

Simmons sighed, “I recommend coming in for evaluation. We could have a proper diagnosis of the affliction, and we would know how to move on from there.”

Evelyn was quick to deny, “Coming in is not an option. I already know what the problem is, I just need to determine if my way to alleviate the problem would work.”

Fitz sighed, frustrated with Evelyn’s sudden unyielding attitude, “Like I said, there are too many things that could go wrong.”

“And if I could narrow those things down to zero?” Evelyn asked.

“Then it would be very successful. If you could narrow any situation’s chance of going wrong to zero, then everything would be successful. But that’s wishful thinking,” Simmons said.

Evelyn riffled through her backpack for the pad of paper and a pencil. Then she began scolding, “I’m doing whatever it takes to get this done, Agents. You’ve already said that this will be successful, you’ve just given me my green light. Now, all I’m here for is for you to help me make sure the subject lives through this to get his life back, do you understand?”

Fitz-Simmons simultaneously agreed with a 3 second hesitation, but they’d given her a time frame. Fitz could hypothetically condense the tech in four weeks, and in four weeks’ time, they could be on the road to Bucky’s recovery.

Before either of them could hang up the protected line, Simmons chirped with a somber voice, though it sounded like she was barely able to contain her excitement, “Evelyn, what you’re about to do, what we’re going to help you do, is the closest thing one individual can get to completely mapping the brain’s neural pathways.”

Simmons ended the call with a provoking thought, “The results of your experiment will be revolutionary. Your subject could be the first individual that could be immortalized in form of artificial intelligence. Let’s just say it would be one giant step for mankind.”

 

#### March 17th, 2015

Evelyn jimmied the key into Bucky’s door with shaking hands, throwing it open once she got it.

Barnes immediately sat from his mattress on the floor took a stance ready to attack. He realized it was only Evelyn and relaxed. Only, Evelyn couldn’t.

Breathing hard, pulse quick, she said, “It’s here.”

It didn’t take long for them to finish staring at the box the way one would stare at an unconquerable mountain before climbing it. Evelyn took out the single item in the box, a black briefcase with two locks and a 5-number lock.

There was an index card taped to the side of the briefcase, clueing them in on the code. It took almost an hour to decode the simple sentence ( _“The first and last word I said._ ”). “I” didn’t refer to Fitz, but to Merida, Evelyn’s nickname for him. It took a quick internet search to find her first and last words and open the briefcase.

When the briefcase locks clicked open, Barnes sat beside her on the couch, ready to kick away the briefcase at the first sign of a threat. Evelyn threw it open and he tensed, and for a good reason. At first, the two halves of the briefcase contained black flat surfaces, but in a second, four rods popped out of the most lateral corners of the briefcases and projected blue light that converged at the center.

Evelyn almost shoved the thing off her lap, but she felt that Fitz would scold her for breaking a month’s work. Instead, she placed it on the flat floor in front of her. Before she and Barnes could unwind from the stressful two seconds, Evelyn’s phone from across the apartment rang loudly.

Evelyn ran to it and scolded to the other end of the line, whoever it was, “How did you get this number?” At the same time, she paced to her closet and pulled out her go bag and pulled some socks on in case she needed to bolt at this second.

Skye’s voice crackled, “Proximity calling. I rang the phone nearest to the CCS signal that you just turned on.”

“Skye? CCS? What…” Evelyn stared at the briefcase projecting light.

“Fitz told me—”

“I told her to. And it’s the Compact Connectome Scanner,” Fitz interrupted through the phone.

“Kill the signal before I take a bat to your hard work,” Evelyn said, fury creeping up her voice. “What the hell did I say about anonymity?”

She nodded at Bucky, “ _Compromised._ ” He bolted back to his apartment and prepared to leave the place behind permanently. She pulled her own socks on and started putting on running shoes.

“This is out of S.H.I.E.L.D. files, I promise,” Skye admitted.

“We just wanted a live progression of the mapping. We thought it’d be better if we monitor your progress—” Simmons proposed.

Evelyn scoffed as she angrily paced her apartment, “You can check my progress for someone else, just not this time. Please, this shit is as classified as it gets.”

“Do it,” Fitz said, immediately taking Evelyn’s words seriously.

She felt the briefcase’s electrical activity change minutely, assuming that was the signal disruption.

“How much did you get from that,” Evelyn angrily asked for answers.

“Just your phone number and location,” Skye admitted.

Evelyn cursed under her breath, “Destroy that data. If you don’t, this is the last you’ll hear from me and you’ll find the CCS donated to the university 15 minutes away.”

There was a reluctance on the other end of the line, but Skye quietly said, “Okay, might take a while.”

While Evelyn waited for the confirmation in the radio silence, Barnes poked his head through the door, ready to wait for her, and ready to run.

“ _Go ahead. If I don’t follow, we’ve been totally compromised and don’t come back for me_. _Don’t tell me where you’re going,_ ” Evelyn said.

He seemed to choke at her instructions, but he nodded.

“ _Don’t talk, they’re listening. I’ll find you if it’s safe,_ ” Evelyn said, but she wondered if she could do it again. Moldova was a mess, and she didn’t find Bucharest without S.H.I.E.L.D.’s data about the Tesseract.

Barnes held up three fingers, indicating the escape route he was taking. Evelyn nodded, and then he disappeared.

“Done,” Skye muttered, and Evelyn trusted that and breathed in momentary relief.

“C’mon guys,” Evelyn plopped down on the couch, sighing at the ceiling, letting the adrenaline go.

“We didn’t think you’d be so paranoid,” Fitz muttered.

Evelyn almost laughed, “You’re _S.H.I.E.L.D._ , you should be more paranoid than me. And aren’t you in the lowkey? This is just… bad agent work.”

“What are you protecting, Evelyn?” he asked, confused, curious, worried, a flurry of emotions that Evelyn couldn’t deal with at the moment. What she needed to deal with was Barnes’s anonymity and leaving the assignment intact.

“That’s classified, Leopold,” she barked, and felt guilty the second she said it. She sighed heavily, “If I use this thing, I need to know if you’re gonna leave my data alone. I need to know if I can trust you with this thing.”

Simmons, the English one, spoke up, “We’re very sorry for destroying your confidence. We just wanted to see if it works.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology,” Evelyn retorted. “I wanted a promise.”

It was quiet on the other end of the line, and Evelyn had the need to fill it, “I could’ve updated you. You could have asked. It just doesn’t hurt to be extra careful with HYDRA still on the lam, guys. Tell me you get it.”

The silence on the other end sounded like an agreement. Then Fitz piped up, “We’ll cut you off completely, no homing signals, no data collections, no live progress updates. You won’t exist to us in this form. I promise,” There was a rush to his voice, more urgent now, and there was aggressive clacking of the keyboard on the other end.

But something else boiled in Evelyn, and she let the steam out, “And if I find out, and I definitely will, that you’ve put me in jeopardy again, I’ll slit all of your throats so painlessly you wouldn’t have realized you died until you’re burning in hell. That’s my promise.”

There was another silence from the other end of the line, and Evelyn could only trust that they had been scared to being careful about this.

“So, if you’ll excuse me, I have to chase down my subject,” Evelyn muttered and hung up, forgetting the CCS on the floor and that she didn’t know how to work it and it was probably the reason they called.


	7. 7. Peruvian 084, Backslide

#### December 5th, 2014

Evelyn had grown familiar with the overtones of blood and undertones of vomit on the burlap sack over her head. It was all she could do in the thirty minutes of being held under there. Only the faint scent of gasoline was a brief respite from the smell, but even that wasn’t great.

“How much longer?” she complained. “The floor’s not exactly comfortable.”

“Shut up already,” said a voice, British, maybe male, just as irritated as she was.

Evelyn could have knocked the four people she counted surrounded her long ago, but she wanted to see if this would pan out to be Hill’s contact.

“Where are you taking me?” Evelyn asked for the third time.

“Look,” said the other deep voice, American this time, “we hate this as much as you. If you could just hold on for a few more minutes…”

“We promise we’re not hostile,” said one of the lighter voices. Evelyn heard her captors call her Skye.

“Burlap sack and handcuffs are totally not hostile,” Evelyn scoffed and leaned against the surface they propped her up against thirty minutes ago.

“It’s just protocol,” said the second voice with the American accent.

The Brit did most of the talking back at Evelyn, the two American voices she heard were the reassuring ones. The fourth and last didn’t speak at all.

“God, that’s S.H.I.E.L.D. for sure. Maybe HYDRA, but they’re falling apart these days, so maybe not,” Evelyn snorted, taking in another whiff of the sack’s pungent smells.

There was a shift in the air, and Evelyn guessed she was right about them being S.H.I.E.L.D. Before Evelyn could ask, the vehicle she was in shifted to a stop or a start or to a change in acceleration. Then hands picked her up from her arms and the business end of a shotgun poked her back.

“Walk,” said the Brit behind her, the one holding the gun.

“Just so you know, I’m walking because I want to, not because you have a gun on my back,” Evelyn called out, resisting the temptation to shock the hands she could feel were holding the gun.

They lead her through some solid ground, pavement, inclining and declining ramps and stairs through doorways where the air changed, and the noises changed. Evelyn tried to pay attention to that, but she just followed the electrical lines under the floors and on the walls. Eventually, she was led into a small room, by the quietness and the short echoes of their footsteps. And a fifth bioelectric signature waited.

“Who’s here,” Evelyn called out, almost panicking.

“The contact,” said the third voice, Skye. The shotgun left her back and the cuffs were taken off her wrists.

“If you take that sack off before we leave, I’ll blow your head off,” said the Brit.

“All righty, cupcake,” she screamed back before the door shut. And when it did, the fifth and only voice in the room other than hers spoke.

“You can take that off now,” and it was familiar.

She yanked it off her head, letting clean smelling air fill her nose, letting the sack drop to the floor. And before her was Agent Coulson, who was always nice to her, but died on board the helicarrier during the Chitauri Invasion. Yet, he was there, standing in front of the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo, the organization she thought only lived in their hearts.

“Holy shit,” Evelyn whispered. “They carried your body out. Everybody saw it after Loki and the helicarrier. There was a funeral. Y—how?”

Coulson shrugged, but there was a smirk on his face and a grim shadow in his eyes for a split second, “Ask me something that isn’t classified.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes at the old ways of S.H.I.E.L.D. Classification was what made HYDRA flourish in the first place. But she skipped the question, knowing Coulson will never answer it. “Where are we?”

“Flying right over Fresno,” he crossed his arms, smiled, unsatisfied with her easy questions. “My turn. What do you need from us?”

“Help. Finding James Barnes,” it was Evelyn’s turn to see a shocked face in the room. “It’s Leonid assigned. So, you might be obligated.”

Coulson furrowed his brow at the codename, “Why don’t you do it yourself if it’s from Leonid? He didn’t come to us, he went to you.”

“It’s my turn,” Evelyn shifted in her seat. “What have you got on him that I don’t?” She slapped a thumb drive on the table. Coulson scrutinized it for a second before holding it behind him. On cue, an agent entered the room, a young woman with dark hair and a familiar bioelectric signature. She snatched the drive Coulson held out, then left.

“We’ll see. Now, answer my question. Why don’t you do it?”

Evelyn shrugged, “Leonid picked me because he said Cap would pull his punches and I wouldn’t.”

“So, you’re the assassin for the assassin?” there was a smile on his face now, subtle, but it was there.

That term made her squirm, “Technically, no. I’m only supposed to bring him in. But when push comes to shove.”

Coulson leaned back on his chair again and crossed his arms. “What do you do when he shoves?”

Evelyn placed her hands on the table and gave him a light show, pulling energy from the large plane. The sparks danced on her hands, jumping from finger to finger, palm to palm.

“Do you want a demonstration?” she said, smiling.

“Electrokinesis?”

“Just manipulation. I can’t generate it. I work with what’s around me,” Evelyn said.

Coulson watched her hands for a while until Evelyn put it away, pulling her hands from the table and let it fiddle in her lap.

“Skye should come up with something soon. Have you decoded anything from Black Widow’s leak?”

Skye, that woman that came in for the thumb drive.

“Nothing of use. Anything relevant to Barnes was outdated since Triskelion,” Evelyn shrugged.

Before she could ask Coulson more about classified activities since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., there was a sharp rap at the one way glass.

“Looks like you got leads,” Coulson stood, smiling. Evelyn stood, too, as a reflex of respesct.

“That was fast.”

Coulson shrugged and lead Evelyn out of the room and into the S.H.I.E.L.D. base named Playground, “She’s that good.”

 

#### December 12th, 2014

Evelyn watched Melinda May spar with S.H.I.E.L.D. trainees in the cafeteria as she ate her breakfast burrito that tasted more like pepper the more she ate.

“May told me about the cold lead,” Fitz sat down next to her, eating cereal out of a mug.

The leads that Skye had come up with were weak to begin with, but they were better than nothing. Most of them were cross referenced from public platforms both deep and superficial web. All Evelyn could do was fly to locations that may or may not have caught the Winter Soldier on a security cam. None of those panned out.

Evelyn snorted, “Colder than Cap under the ice.”

He snorted to mirror her.

“And that was the last one you guys pulled out for me. It was all talk.” Evelyn leaned back in her chair, watching May throw a trainee across the room with a kick.

This last one was just shaking down some deep web chatterers that liked to talk mad gossip about the HYDRA documents that Natasha leaked out. None of them had everything, and those that talked anything about the Winter Soldier were just pretending they saw him, had him pinned down, found his programming, pretending to have caught smoke.

When she left the last lead’s shoddy apartment in Shanghai in her blonde wig and a photostatic veil replicating a Victorian Era woman with nothing but irritation, Evelyn thought the same the thing she said to Fitz: “My S.H.I.E.L.D. career is over. Again.”

Fitz chuckled at that, but there was a chill down both their backs at the memory of the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Maybe if I had the teleportation-telekinesis combo. This all would have been over,” Evelyn sighed, sitting up again.

Fitz smirked, “Just make a portal straight to where you want to go.”

“For all we know, Barnes is on the fucking moon,”

“A portal to the moon coming right up,” Fitz grinned.

“I don’t know about the moon, but maybe a portal to outer space,” a voice piped up. Behind them was Coulson, arms crossed, amused at May beating up the trainees on the mat across the room.

“It was a joke,” Evelyn stood, offering her a seat, a reflex movement as a residue from her old S.H.I.E.L.D. days.

“Please,” Coulson’s brow furrowed at her movement, sitting at another seat instead. “I was making a joke too. If we had the Tesseract and knew how to use it, maybe. But it was a joke, mainly.”

Evelyn laughed as another reflex but was thrown back to that night in the Mojave when the Tesseract went haywire for S.H.I.E.L.D. and Loki came through with his spear and his mindcontrol and later with his army.

“That was mad energy,” she said, almost talking to herself.

Fitz and Coulson turned their heads at her, their respective puzzled faces pasted on.

“How could you tell?” Fitz put on a different voice, one she had never heard from him.

She shrugged at their looks she was getting, “I was there for a hot minute when Fury and Selvig were testing the Cube. The whole building was saturated with it when I walked through the doors.”

“Were you there when it exploded?” Coulson tried to recall her face.

She shook her head, “I was evacuated the moment I noticed her power surge.”

“‘Her?’” Fitz asked.

“The Tesseract,” she and Coulson said in unison.

“You’re the one that noticed that?” Coulson looked excited and worried now.

Once she told Selvig what she felt the Tesseract did, he reported it to Fury, who had ordered her immediate evacuation. Something about being too valuable to lose. “Yeah. Why?”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Coulson turned to Fitz, who had something behind his eyes, gears turning, equations solving.

“Peruvian 084?” a grin was waiting to burst out.

When their eyes agreed, they turned to Evelyn, who was still waiting for an explanation at their curious looks.

Fitz finally smiled, “Are you busy today? Or any day?”

 

#### December 20th, 2014, 3PM, Qaasuitstup, Greenland

“Are you ready, Evelyn?” Jemma Simmons smiled at her as she triple-checked the wires and electrodes that monitored Evelyn’s vitals and power levels.

“As I’ll ever be,” was all Evelyn could say. She stared at the little blue particle on the other side of the room. They managed to extract it from the gun they found in Peru. Turns out, HYDRA was selling Tesseract powered weapons all over the place once Zola mastered his science. In a way, HYDRA always comes back.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had managed to recreate the machines Selvig and NASA were using right before the Tesseract went apeshit during Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. The only difference was the power source in the middle; the Peruvian 084 particle in replacement for the Tesseract in the center. Engineers, mostly Fitz, were buzzing around the room, going through the final checks before they began, calling out to each other as they went down the checklist.

Fitz-Simmons tried to explain to Evelyn how she couldn’t possibly cave the base in like the Tesseract had with the Joint Dark Energy Mission Facility. He said that the particle was incomparable with the power of the Tesseract, how the particle wasn’t a chip off the cube with unlimited energy. They just wanted to see how good Evelyn can replicate the levels that the Tesseract read before the implosion. But just in case, Coulson had moved them into the middle of the least populated area in Greenland.

“Alright,” Fitz said, voice antsy. “I’m giving the machinery the greenlight.” He put his hands behind his head and sighed at the ceiling.

“I’m giving Evelyn’s vital monitor the greenlight as well,” Simmons gave them a small smile.

“I’m ready to collapse this place,” Evelyn stood, grinning out of nervousness, and watched everybody else cringe at the poorly made joke.

“Places,” Fitz called out, and every single person in the room besides Evelyn clung to the nearest foundation, recalling the nearest exit and protocol in the event that heavy debris came bearing down on them.

And the guns went up. Just in case an alien army came rushing through that door like the last time. Half the people in the room were armed, weapons ranging from handguns to rocket launchers. But the most important one was the one in Jemma’s hand.

“Got the tranq, Simmons?” Evelyn called out behind her.

“It won’t be necessary, but yes, I do,” said Jemma. Evelyn was the only one that could open the door, and she was the only one that could keep it open.

“Just like before, Evelyn,” Fitz said once Jemma’s tranq was cocked.

They had done this before, that day that they joked about portals, just to see if Evelyn could operate on the frequency of the 084. Behind the glass of the barricaded science lab, Fitz told her to accelerate the particle _somehow_. And Evelyn did it, somehow. It felt like shaking an instant hot pack, like breaking a fresh glowstick. Small implosions and explosions and excitements. It was entirely different from handling electricity, but she could handle it. Only, the first time, it was just a particle in a glass box placed a few feet away. Only, that glass box had shattered.

“Sure it’s controlled?” Evelyn called out behind her where Fitz and Simmons stood with their protective eyewear and plexiglass screen.

“Not really,” Fitz called back. “Remember we’re just trying to open a door. Not figure out coordinates.”

This was the best they could do. Now it was her turn.

Evelyn held her hand out, feeling for the energy source that stood out. Electricity was all over the place, in the wires, in the walls, in the bodies around her. But the particle was a sharp beacon, a small Lego piece on the arch of the foot, a shrill fox bark in a silent forest. And then Evelyn broke the hot pack, the glowstick, the small implosion and explosion. The particle started sparking blue around, the air started to vibrate, and she started to get excited.

Evelyn looked at the monitor beside her, comparing the current numbers to the Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. numbers. It was meaningless to her apart from trying to make them the same.

But it could have been years or hours. Through different sessions of experimentation, lunch and dinner and sleep breaks in between. They all blended together. The fifth day, the fifth time, the particle started to resist against Evelyn’s wishes, like it was running out. Her jaw started to ache again from clenching them too hard. She started pulling electricity and pushing it into the glorified glowstick. Electric sparks joined the alien, all concentrating in the center of the machine.

She heard Fitz exclaim behind her.

“It’s okay, that’s me,” Evelyn called out.

At that second, a bright blue beam shot from the excited particle and stopped on the other end of the built platform and spread into thin air, like running water on a plate.

“Shit,” Evelyn managed to say as the phenomenon happened before her eyes.

“Oh my god,” Simmons said softly behind her.

The spread of the beam started growing, from the size of a plate to a bathroom mirror with shaking borders suspended in midair. So, Evelyn kept pushing the particle, trying to get the volume of the numbers on the monitor. The mirror that grew from the particle beam was all black, nothing behind it except the blue energy that flowed from the beam to the borders that Evelyn pushed to expand.

Then the mirror was wide enough to be a door, and she felt the particle stop. And she held it there.

Yet, the beam remained. The black mirror remained. Its borders were still. The void beckoned to her.

And she went, gingerly stepping over the cables.

“Evelyn,” a voice called out to her, it was distant. Maybe it was in the room, maybe it was from the other side. She stepped closer, her hand held out to the mirror void in the room.

It was there. She stepped. A door. The door. Step. To space. Step. “Evelyn.” To anywhere. To everywhere. Step.

“Evelyn, _stop_ ,” the voice said. The closer she stepped to the portal, the farther the voice sounded. It had an accent.

Maybe to the other world.

And the mirror changed for a split second, entertaining that idea, a blip of hazy images, a cacophony of familiar and strange noises and colors and feelings.

“Evelyn, the readings are way off.”

Maybe a door to Barnes.

And the black void flashed, blue tinted energy streaming and reconfiguring from the beam and to the borders.

“Evelyn,” Simmons called out. Simmons.

The English was right behind her when Evelyn turned, Simmons’s hand on Evelyn’s elbow. Then she saw how far Evelyn walked. She was right at the platform, millimeters from the blue void, the door.

“So close,” Evelyn muttered. Anything could be on the other side, Barnes could be on the other side. Simmons let go of her, or Evelyn pulled herself away.

And the black plate wasn’t a void anymore. It was a solid-state window into another place. She could feel the energy, electric and alien, moving behind her, around the air, and through her. The window had a clear night sky, the buildings shifting. She could feel the ground on her feet. Not the old velvet carpet, but ground, soil, dirt.

“Evelyn, d—”

And the window was a door, the energy rushing through her, hot and cold at the same time, tasting of coconut and mint, and the shifting buildings and the night sky became solid. The dirt was on her knees, and the smell changed.

Evelyn’s first reaction was to breathe, checking if the air was toxic. When she didn’t drop dead in the following minute, Evelyn’s next reaction was heave everything out. She doubled over on the ground and let her lunch go.

“Holy shit,” she said with a raw voice, still tasting the generic cereal brand she had.

Then she did a pat down. Everything was attached, from what she could tell. Except, her right shoe and sock was missing, the right leg of her black leggings had been cut off at an askew angle, and the toenail of her right middle toe was gone. At closer inspection, her right arm was sloppily shaved, and just one of her right nails had chipped nail polish. Evelyn wasn’t sure about that last one.

“Holy shit,” she said again, doing another pat down, touching everything around her this time. The night sky was above her, the stars looked normal, and there was a moon. It looked the same, but she couldn’t be sure. There were brick walls on both sides, and it smelled of garbage. She was at an alley, somewhere, maybe on Earth.

Evelyn slowly walked out onto the street, checking the gravity. It felt normal. But what did she know. She just fell through a portal on the first try. This could be anywhere in this infinite universe.

Before she could get any farther into the street, a force almost knocked her down. The thing, it was a human, grabbed her by the arms to keep her from falling, then set her aside like she wasn’t that heavy.

The human, a man, she thought, muttered something with a frown. He wore a jean jacket, a baseball cap, and just one glove on his left. And a familiar face she’d only seen in pictures and memorials.

The man, Barnes, she was sure, kept walking in a huff, only bothered by her being in the way.

 _Holy shit_ , she dared not breathe. But something kicked in. S.H.I.E.L.D. training, Nat training, or just an innate need to follow through, to resist failure. Evelyn waited for the safe distance and followed.


	8. 8. Hammarskjold

#### March 19th, 2015

“You’re not gonna freak out on me again, are you?” Bucky said as he watched Evelyn pull out the CCS case from under the coffee table.

Evelyn snorted, “Like I said, they had a homing signal on this. I told them to kill it.”

“And you trust them to?”

“You’re not gonna freak out on me, are you?” Evelyn parroted his question, to which they chuckled at each other. But only that. “Yes, I trust them. And if they break it, I can find them, and I can throw them into space where their bra strangles them if space hasn’t killed them first.”

A real laugh came out of him that time, and he immediately tried to suppress it.

“You can laugh if you want,” Evelyn said, averting her eyes, pretending to be suddenly interested in opening the case. “You can laugh all day, I won’t mind.”

“Okay,” he only said, but she could hear his smile on that single word.

Evelyn went through the instructions on the follow up packet Fitz-Simmons sent her. Pressing the right buttons and propping up the right metal rods indicated on the IKEA pamphlet, there was a small hologram light show in front of them.

“Second time’s a charm,” Evelyn sighed.

“What now?” Bucky asked, looking closer at the lights.

She tossed him an electrode cap, “That goes on your head.” Then she pulled out the small sticky buttons, “And these go on my hands.”

It took them a few minutes to get situated, placing the electrode cap the right way or sticking the trackers on the biggest nerves in her hands. But all that was left was to touch the thin air in the projection to start vital and neural activity tracking.

“Okay,” Evelyn sighed as they got settled in their places. Bucky laid down on the couch, his head just over the edge of the arm. And Evelyn was sitting on a dining chair, hands hovering over his head.

“Here’s to not dying,” Bucky said with a nervous smile.

All she could do was chuckle, and silently plead to the universe not to kill him.

Then the CCS light show started tracking. Slowly, in the empty air, appeared hair thin blue lines flowing, streaming, tapering, thickening, all around and over each other. And it wasn’t long when Barnes’s brain started taking shape before them. To test the live tracking, Evelyn poked him on the shoulder. And it was beautiful. It was unnoticeable at first, but if they watched, they could see intertwining networks of nerves communicate and process the split second-long stimulus.

“This is way cool,” Bucky whispered.

“No kidding,” Evelyn smiled. There was a glimmer of hope that warmed her chest in that moment.

 “So,” Bucky interrupted the silence that had began to form as they watched Bucky’s brain think in front of them, “should we start?”

The glimmer went immediately went away, but Evelyn cracked her knuckles and drilled. “Okay. Fitz-Simmons says to chart insulated areas. The CCS will be able to detect outside sources of electrical activity,” she talked herself through her objective.

“Layman’s,” Bucky requested with a small smile.

She chuckled through her anxiety, “Uh… When I start shocking your brain cells that aren’t working, the CCS will be able to tell which brain cells I’m shocking.”

He only nodded, looking straight ahead, getting his head in the game.

Evelyn recalled her diagnostic stimulation, when she realized some of his brain cells weren’t accepting or passing off electrical impulses that normal cells would. What she felt that night now can physically manifest before her.

“I’ll be hovering right over your head, if that’s okay,” Evelyn said. “Please tell me when it hurts.”

When Bucky nodded with a smirk, “The safe word is ‘nine.’”

After swallowing her embarrassment, she began. Evelyn picked a neuron path and followed where that went until it stopped. Once she found a path that resisted, she held her breath, “Introducing a current. Deep breath.”

In the CCS’s light replica, Bucky’s deep breath action created a quickly clearing wave of neural activity. Then, focusing on the spots where the cells weren’t conducive, she introduced a gentle current until the only place left for the current to go was other neural paths beside it.

Evelyn stopped before that could happen, “How are we?” There was a feeling in the back of her nose, but she sniffed it away.

He breathed deeply, “It just smells like motor oil.”

Evelyn ignored that coincidence and tried to remember what she knew of smells and memories and brain areas, but Bucky spoke.

“Are those red spots?” he said, shifting to move closer.

In the midst of the blue in the CCS brain light replica, there were distributed spots of red. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but they were there.

Evelyn consulted the S.H.I.E.L.D. IKEA pamphlet, “‘Red indicates electrical activity that does not display standard action potential process. Standard resting voltage blah blah blah, hyperpolarization time laps blah blah, enable voice—’” Evelyn stopped once the paragraph changed.

“What does that…”

“Red just says ‘not normal,’” Evelyn said, trying to comprehend the scientific terms on the pamphlet. “Red is what we need to fix. We just have to keep doing this until every red in your brain shows up.”

When Bucky only gave a huff, she said, “We don’t have to do it if you want.” She wouldn’t know what to do if he didn’t want to go forward. This was all the treatment she could think of.

Evelyn was about to rack her brain for every possible solution when he said, “We’ll keep going.” He seemed resolved, shifting on the couch to get more comfortable.

Evelyn placed her hands over his head and started looking for those stops in electrical conduction. And she found them, and she shocked them. There was nothing for a while, just more hair-thin red spots barely noticeable on the CCS replica, and Bucky would talk through it, telling her the smells or colors or random things that he would think of as she would force an electric current through his latent neurons. And it would somehow make sense.

After ten minutes of charting the red, Evelyn hit something, and a flash of images and smells and memory traces took over her thoughts. A dark sky, the smell of iron, hot and dry air, the sticky feeling of sweat against a tac suit.

Evelyn pulled her hands away and opened her eyes she didn’t realize she shut.

“What the hell was that?” she managed to whisper, and she looked at the CCS for an explanation. She could only watch as a relaying of small electrical currents weaved in and out and through themselves, spreading through the brain like ants playing telephone at Mach 2.

“What the hell was what?” Bucky sat up and looked at her, suddenly freaked out. And somehow, he looked freaked out on his own, like he’d seen something too.

Evelyn stuttered, “I…I don’t know. Just simple sensations. I saw things. I don’t know.”

She saw realization dawn on him and wished she understood the feeling, “What?”

“I just remembered something,” Bucky said quietly. “Just flashes. It was too fast for me to understand, but it was familiar. What did you see?”

Her hands were shaking, “I don’t know, a dark sky. And I could smell iron. That was so distinct. And the air…”

“Like a desert?” he offered, his shoulders dropping, somehow understanding the direction she was going in.

“Holy shit,” Evelyn stood, realizing. Memory recalls were reflected, brain recognizing her stimulation would reflect back. It explained the smells and the sensations that made sense.

“Let’s keep going,” Bucky said, bordering on command.

“Are you sure?” she stuttered. “It feels invading. Like I’m not supposed to see that. I don’t know if you want me to see that.” She didn’t want anyone stumbling upon everything in the past that she knew about, how much less upon things she didn’t?

He thought about it. She could only see a flurry of emotions go through a blender in his eyes and the micromovements in his face.

Finally, he nodded, wringing his hands, “There’s no turning back now. We’re in this together.”

That shook her. He was willing to unwillingly confess HYDRA’s atrocities to her. This was full transparency. That should’ve dismayed her, scared her, freaked her out to be in control, to be in the position that HYDRA once was. But it didn’t. She wasn’t HYDRA. They tried to take everything away, she was trying to get it back. And maybe, she could be transparent, too. Evelyn’s heart raced now.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Let me try something.”

She repeated that last group of neurons she stimulated, and the smell of iron confirmed it was the same group. She watched followed the neural activity from her senses and the CCS replica both, trying to pay attention to that pattern of signals following each other.

“I’m repeating that relay. Get your safe word ready,” she said and forced that electrical relay on the nerve cells that ran. She kept repeating it, inhaling the iron, until something happened. And something happened, eventually. The images were clearer, the smells and feelings were sharper. And something new manifested in her mind, or their mind. She wasn’t sure yet. It was as if she was holding a switchblade. It was real. Somehow, she was holding it right now, though her hands were empty. And she felt her hand descend, strategically, immediately drawing blood. And then the guilt hit. Somehow it was hers and it wasn’t. She was back at that compound in Kolkata. Someone in her arms, rage in her veins, a scream in her throat.

 _Shit._ Evelyn pulled her hands away, almost falling back from the dining chair. And for a moment neither of them moved, letting their own memories sink in. There was a building feeling in her chest, and she didn’t want it there. But she couldn’t let it out.

“What did you see?” Evelyn distracted herself. She grabbed the pad of paper she had prepared for recording. As she waited for Bucky to break his quiet, she wrote down observations and questions for Fitz-Simmons and her assignment reports. This memory reflection was freaking her out. And the memories that surfaced for her more so.

Bucky cleared his throat. “It was night time. Some kind of air traffic control panel, I’m not sure,” his eyes were closed in concentration. “The switchblade. It landed on someone. The guy was black, African, I think, wearing a blue polo, put up a fight.”

Bucky stopped, opening his eyes and sighing deeply. “I don’t think he was the mission. Just collateral.”

Evelyn nodded, “The guy didn’t come up for me. Just the environment. And the switchblade.”

They nodded at each other, understanding. Bucky took the impact of the recalls, she got echoes. That concept seemed to make him more uncomfortable.

“Is there more? You don’t have to tell me,” she said, seeing the discomposure on his face.

“I was on a roof,” he confessed immediately. “I think I shot a plane down…”

“Do you want to go over it?”

He nodded hesitatingly, slowly. He didn’t want to go over it, but he had to.

The CCS was hooked up again, and they were poised to go back to work. She shut her eyes, feeling her fingers and the pads on her fingers, pushing away the memories she tried not to think about, trying to focus.

“Evie?” Bucky’s soft voice pulled her out of the slowly building panic.

“Sorry. Are you ready?” she said, barely collecting her voice to be audible. But she gave him a small smile. “Try to think about the air traffic control panel. And everything.”

“Okay,” his eyebrows twitched for a moment in concern, but he laid back down and regulated his breathing. “I’m doing it.”

Evelyn closed her eyes, and pushed everything to the back of her mind

“CCS track activity,” she told the machine, albeit feeling weird about talking to a machine. The CCS responded, and a red light blinked at the edge of the projection, indicating it was recording. Then she followed Bucky’s neural activity, reinforcing it, repeating it, letting his mind do the work, following its distractions.

They saw the switchblade again after a couple minutes. The switchblade and the blood and the fight for life. And there were more. Unrelated or not. More punches and swings of knives and pistol whips and feelings of triggers under fingers. And there were the flashes of fear on faces of different shades and colors and facial hair and age. Everything was familiar, but not. Then as quickly as she saw those, it was over, and they were climbing some stairs, and the feeling of familiarity started again, and memories started connecting. There was a heavy weapon in their hands, then they were under the night sky, aiming, looking for the blinking light of his plane, seeing the sparks of warning shots. The mission. A flash of a manila folder. United Nations.

It was Bucky’s turn to pull away. He sat up, and everything she saw had faded into her own memories about manila folders, then the one about Kolkata, the one with the Kolkatan report, then the one with James Buchanan Barnes in the file passed under a table.

Before she could bring herself back to the present, Bucky grabbed the pad and pan on the table and scribbled names, of people and places.

“I just remember names right now, it doesn’t make any sense together,” he said, his voice quiet and quivering.

She watched him scribble on the pad for an infinity, and at different points, he was too shaken to continue, but he did until he ran out of things to list. Then he handed her the pad, and one name had the largest writing, underlined twice at the top of the list.

“Dag Hammarskjold. Let’s see if the name turns up.” She grabbed her computer, picked off the CCS pads from her fingers, sat beside Bucky on the couch, and typed the name into the search bar.

Usually, Bucky would joke about what he thought was new tech, but, now, he seemed to shrink into himself, trying to make himself smaller.

And when the search results turned up, she could see why.

“Hammarskjold, Secretary General of the UN,” Evelyn read snippets aloud, watching Bucky fidget at the corner of her eye.

“Along with 15 others, Hammarskjold died in a plane crash in 1961 in Ndola under suspicious circumstances on his way to negotiate a cease-fire between the UN and Katanga troops,” her heart dropped, and Bucky put his head in his hands. She made sense of it, they both made sense of it.

“A fucking rocket launcher,” he muttered. That was the heavy weapon. “The guy tried to stop me. He was in the way.”

The smell was blood, and the air was Ndola, Zambia’s air, the tac suit was his.

“15 people,” he said, struggling to come to terms with it.

Evelyn closed her computer and placed a hand on his shoulder, the colder one.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she offered.

He chuckled sardonically, head still in his hands.

“It wasn’t,” Evelyn said, stronger this time. “You didn’t have a choice. All that time, you had no control.”

He turned to her now, and she saw his red-rimmed eyes leaking out tears, “But I did it. I did that, and I did something to everyone else on that list. Who knows how many more.” She could tell he wanted to scream, not at her, not at anybody, just scream. Into an abyss, at HYDRA, at the past, at himself. Instead, he gritted his teeth and balled his fists, digging into his palm.

“And the worst part is,” he let his hands go and sat back on the couch, “I have to know.”

“Maybe you don’t have to,” Evelyn dared to say, her voice was smaller than his. “Maybe you’re just going to suffer by knowing. You’ll torture yourself everyday for everything you know about.”

He shook his head, “I already torture myself every day for everything I don’t. I can’t live in ignorance, Evelyn. Not when I have a choice now. That’s not justifiable.”

Then Evelyn gave him a lingering pat on the back that she felt should have stayed longer, then stood and grabbed the list. “I’ll submit these names to Hill, see what she comes up with. Cross reference it with Natasha’s HYDRA leak, maybe.”

He looked up at her with big sad eyes. The same feeling of hope that warmed her chest earlier was now in the way that he looked at her.

“We’ll find something,” she smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, and he placed a trembling hand on top of hers.

Evelyn pulled her hand away and started to pack the CCS, “You should write your memories down. Just in case. I have a pack of notebooks in the closet.”

He placed the electrode cap on the table beside the CCS and got up to rummage in the closet.

They both sat back down on the couch and began their respective activities. Bucky wrote, Evelyn typed up a report with Bucky’s list of names and places. And it was alright for a while until she got to the end and her heart dropped.

“This name,” she pointed at the last one. There was a question mark beside it.

“I wasn’t sure about that one,” he said, looking up from his journal.

“You didn’t kill Joanna Allen,” she barely heard herself. She made a mental note to talk to Fitz-Simmons about this.

“How do you know?” he didn’t believe her. He only believed he killed everybody.

“Because I did.”

And Evelyn found herself spilling everything, letting herself become transparent for his sake, and she felt the tears come on and spill, too. She recounted Kolkata, almost retelling her official report verbatim, but everything in between those lines spilled too. Eventually, she stopped herself from saying too much. Bucky didn’t ask questions, but he listened intently. For a moment, it was his turn to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder, another hand on hers, with words. _Not your fault, not your fault_. And they sat there, in the quiet, looking at the ceiling like it was a skylight, or the wall like it was a window, only grounding themselves with the touch they shared with their hands. And Evelyn slept as Bucky spent the night writing. And she dreamed. Of Kolkata, of Joanna, that compound, feeling the guilt, and the rage, and the numbness, and of the repetition she couldn’t help but witness. A scream would build up in her mouth, but she never let it out. Only inside, where the past should have stayed.


	9. 9. Joanna's Choice

#### November 5th, 2014, 12AM

“We’re going to die,” Aulani muttered as Antelmo’s guards pushed them onward with the barrels of their guns.

Bruce and Tony let her take the jet with them on it, running tests on it as long as they could until Evelyn and Aulani finally took the helmet. Of course, they called everyone else at the safehouse and said Evelyn was going rogue and they were being held hostage. Nat didn’t believe that, but no one could do anything at this point. They just had to move up the timetable. Clint pulled up the blueprints to Antelmo’s compound, Cap came up with an extraction plan, and Nat kept looking for the bombs.

“ _With Evelyn’s half assed plan, probably,_ ” Tony replied through the comms.

“It’s not assed at all,” Evelyn muttered as she counted 6 bioelectric activities outside and 7 inside. It would be easy for Evelyn to knock them all out, but they’d have to tick everything in the list before that happens.

“ _God, Evelyn_ ,” Steve said with a sigh of exasperation. They hadn’t found anything on the bombs, so all anyone could do was follow Evelyn and Aulani’s progress.

She tried to keep her calm. Joanna was just down this hallway. When they’ve exchanged the mind control device for the bombs’ locations and Joanna’s safety, then Evelyn can start calmly freaking out. That’s what Cap said. Just tick everything in the list before she starts letting go.

“Ah, yes, we had an appointment,” Antelmo said as his guards pushed them into a room. There were three more guards in the room, their rifles at the ready. “Please note that if anyone else walks through that door, superpowered or otherwise, you will all die.”

Joanna was kneeling on the floor; her hands were tied in the back, mouth gagged. She screamed something intelligible when she looked up and saw the terrible excuse for her rescuers. Evelyn’s heart leapt at her blue eyes, but her chest emptied at the sight of her.

“You could've at least bandaged her foot,” Evelyn tried not to end it all there.

Antelmo rolled his eyes, “I made no such promises. Do you have my device?”

Aulani held up the black sack with the mind control device in it, “Bomb locations first.”

“And try anything, this compound will be a burn mark on the face of this earth,” Evelyn spat. It wouldn’t be, but she liked the words out of her mouth. She liked the idea of a missile blowing up this place and eliminating another face of HYDRA.

“I can’t give you the locations without putting on the helmet,” the South American psychopath didn’t even smile. His face was emotionless, like his face was made of marble.

Stark piped up in her ear, “ _Not a chance_.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Evelyn said. “Bad planning on your part. Give us the locations or I’m blowing this helmet to hell.”

Antelmo swiftly moved behind Joanna, cocking a small pistol behind her head, “Blow that helmet to hell and the same thing will happen to her. Besides, I don’t know where the bombs are.”

There was a cacophony on the other line of the comms. _Get out of—take them all—oh my god why are we—expose his entrails_. There was no clear answer, no request or command.

“Clarify,” Evelyn’s boomed through the room, and the noise quieted.

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes, “I told my men to hide them without telling me. The only way for me to find them is to form an energy link using the device. Simply put, the helmet—”

“—will tell you where the bombs are, got it,” Evelyn interrupted, much to his chagrin.

“ _Just take the helmet and go_ ,” Stark said on the other line.

“ _She’s not leaving without Joanna_ ,” Steve told him.

“We’re at an impasse,” Aulani pointed out.

Antelmo shook his head, “Contrary. I have all the advantages. I have your agent, I have you surrounded and at bay.”

“You don’t have the helmet,” Aulani smiled.

“ _The helmet,_ ” Banner suddenly realized. “ _Evelyn, don’t give him the helmet. Stall._ ”

Evelyn tightened her grip around the black sack.

Antelmo turned away from them for a moment and slowly walked around the room, “The thing about me working for HYDRA all these years is that I got to see failures and successes roll through the project room.”

“ _What are you up to, Banner?_ ” Tony’s voice came on.

“ _If the helmet is born of the scepter, it should have some trace of its power, shouldn’t it? Some distinct signature?_ ”

Evelyn and Aulani looked at each other. There was anxiety behind Aulani’s eyes and Evelyn couldn’t help but share it. Why did it feel like something was going wrong? But she could do nothing except let everything happen around her. Joanna was right there, but unreachable. If she made a move Antelmo would kill her.

“ _Sure, sure,_ ” Stark sounded distracted, and Evelyn could hear the distant clacks of tapping on a surface.

Antelmo continued his monologue, “But the one success story that I’ve always looked up to was Captain America’s shield. It was a piece of history from the first days of our organization. You could imagine my excitement when he and it was found frozen in the Arctic. His shield was back and S.H.I.E.L.D. had access to it, made improvements to it.”

“ _If the helmet is the only thing that can detect the bombs, then the bombs should have a similar signature,_ ” Stark finished Banner’s thought.

“ _But we need to turn it on,_ ” Banner said, sounding defeated and victorious at the same time.

“So, put it on?” Aulani whispered, confused, looking at Evelyn for answers.

“Of course, HYDRA had access to those improvements,” Antelmo smiled now. He had perfect teeth, but the way he showed them felt wrong. Like a painted mannequin in a nuclear testing site. It sent chills down Evelyn’s spine. “Would you like a demonstration?”

“ _Yes, put it on,_ ” Banner said urgently.

Evelyn felt it before she saw it, but by the time she had her hand out to intercept the electromagnetic field with her own stab of electricity, the helmet was out of her hands into Antelmo’s.

_Shit._

“ _What just happened_?” Cap realized something had gone wrong.

“ _It’s on_ ,” Banner exclaimed.

“Antelmo has it!” Aulani screamed, and at the end of that sentence, it was on his head.

Immediately, a butt of a gun made hard contact with Aulani’s head and she was on the ground. Evelyn felt a change in bioelectric activity behind her, and she moved to dodge the swing the guard was making.

“Stop,” Antelmo’s voice commanded. And like it was of her own free will, Evelyn stopped. Her knees were bent, and her hands were halfway to making a fist. The electricity that was powering her up had stopped coming. “Put the Faraday bracelet on your ankle,” he said, and she followed.

“ _Nat, move in,_ ” Steve said urgently.

 “No, he’ll kill Joanna!” Evelyn screamed, trying to move.

“ _Evelyn, stall. We can find the bombs with enough time,_ ” Stark said.

She wasn’t sure if she could do that. She couldn’t do anything right now. She was powerless.

" _He said there are 14 bombs on this continent,_ " Barton exclaimed.

On the largest continent.

“Now,” Antelmo put his hands back in the pockets of his pantsuit, “calmly get beside Joanna.”

“ _We can’t just stand here and do nothing,_ ” Clint sounded exasperated on the other line.

He breathed, and Evelyn visibly saw the stress leave his eyes as she left Aulani’s unconscious body and slowly walked over to Joanna.

“ _We have to if we want to everyone to leave alive,_ ” Nat responded, her voice low and calm. She was already thinking of ways to get out of this situation. Evelyn couldn’t think like that, not now. Evelyn could only embrace Joanna, hold her tightly like they were going to die in a second.

“Oh, it’s like that,” Antelmo smirked, amused.

“ _And he has the device now. It’s a trap,_ ” Banner said, distracted, that tapping in the background. “ _We got the device signature now, Evelyn. It’s weak, but we got it. We just have to find other signatures_.”

At least someone was talking her through it.

“Are you okay?” Evelyn scanned her now that she was closer. There was a cut under her eye and her lip was bleeding. But Joanna only nodded.

Antelmo’s guards didn’t miss a beat and pulled them off each other, cuffing Evelyn’s hands behind her.

“Take hers off,” Antelmo nodded at Joanna, and the guards followed his orders. He approached them, gun in hand.

“Don’t,” Evelyn tried to beg but it hardly came out of her tightened throat. “Don’t kill her, kill me.”

Antelmo smiled again, “I won’t do that. She will.” He offered the gun to Joanna.

“ _Joanna, don’t do it,_ ” Barton yelled. They all knew it was no use. She couldn’t hear him, and even if she did, she was under the device. No one could do anything except Antelmo.

They both stared at him, shocked, blinking away the nightmare. But he was there when they opened their eyes. Joanna was tear streaked as she did her best to resist. Evelyn could see the strain in her muscles, but Joanna took the gun with shaking hands.

“ _Where are we on that signature trace?_ ” Steve demanded.

“ _We need to get closer to the bombs if we want to find them_ ,” Banner said, softly. Evelyn could barely hear him.

Evelyn’s heart dropped. No one was coming. No one could come. Needs of the many.

“Go,” she told them.

Natasha started, “ _We’re not leav—_ ”

“Millions over two,” Evelyn gritted her teeth. Steve was right, and she knew it from the moment he said it. “Please. You can’t do anything here, you can do something everywhere else.”

“ _She’s right_ ,” Steve said, quietly. He didn’t want to think about it like that but Evelyn was right.

“A reminder. If anyone walks in here that isn’t my people, I’ll kill you both and that girl over there,” he nodded at Aulani from across the room. “And Joanna, if you don’t kill her, I’ll blow all the bombs at the same time.”

“Why are you doing this?” Joanna demanded, her teeth gritted as her trembling hands cocked the gun like they weren’t her hands.

He crouched to look at her at eye level, “I like to see all of you helpless.”

“If you haven’t left already, this is the time to go,” Evelyn scolded the other line. They were wasting time.

“ _Like hell I’m leaving you behind,_ ” she heard the sounds of Stark’s suit clanking into place.

“Stop,” Evelyn begged. “Get the bombs over with., Tony. Don’t waste your time here.” She felt the tears sting her eyes.

“ _I found one but that’s as much as we’re going to get from here,_ ” Banner said. “ _Make the call, Cap._ ” The call. The hard choice. Not everyone was going to come out of it alive.

Then Antelmo stood up and walked slow circles around them, “So, Joanna, here’s my offer. Kill Evelyn, and I detonate the bombs at 2 hour intervals. Don’t kill Evelyn, and I kill all of you and detonate all of the bombs at the same time.”

That was the thing about Antelmo that creeped Evelyn out. He spoke like he wasn’t insane. Like he was some real estate agent talking about a price on a house with different mortgage payments, not millions of lives on the line of a bargain. This was nothing for him.

There was radio silence on the other line until Steve said, “ _Let’s find the bombs as fast as we can. Clint and Nat will disable the one that you’ve found. I'll disable the next. Banner and Stark stay behind to find the others._ ”

“ _I’m sorry, Eve,_ ” Steve said with finality.

“It’s okay, Cap,” Evelyn said, feeling her chest empty. “I understand.”

“ _If nothing works, we’re going to Budapest,_ ” Nat declared. It made no sense to Evelyn, but the silence on the other line meant some agreement.

“Someone else _going to Budapest._ We _can’t,_ ” Clint responded, but Evelyn was far away now.

 “ _Stay on the line, Spark Plug,_ ” Stark said, like it was a simple request, like death wasn’t imminent.

“Goodbye, Tony,” she said as she shook off the earpiece from her ear. It fell to the ground and she crushed it with her knee. They didn’t need to hear her die.

“Guns up,” Antelmo said, his voice not needing to project.

Then Evelyn felt the cold barrel of a gun on the back of her head to mirror the gun on the back of Joanna’s head. The only difference was that Joanna had her cuffed hands in front of her and a gun aimed at Evelyn.

“Do it, Joanna,” Evelyn whispered through her tight throat.

Joanna only struggled to hold her arms up, or struggled against the device that kept it up. Her face was flat, but Evelyn knew that that was a face of intense concentration.

“Do it before it’s the both of us,” Evelyn tried to yell, but it only came out in a sharp whisper.

“We just need to stall, Evelyn. The team can find the bombs. Gamma signature,” Joanna reasoned it out, the corners of her mouth quivering, trying to remain pursed.

Evelyn shook her head, feeling the tears slip out now, “They’re miles away, they can’t hear us, there’s no way. You have to do it, Joanna.”

They had only found one of the bombs, and there was no way of telling that that was the first to go off. There were 13 more, and there was no way of telling how long it would take to find those. They couldn’t stall forever.

“You have to choose now, Little Joanna. One or millions. Time ticks,” Antelmo’s maniacal voice was so quiet, like he was thinking to himself.

Joanna frowned at that, her arms shook even more. At Antelmo’s words, her finger slowly and shakily placed itself on the trigger, ready to squeeze.

“Aulani’s gonna wake up any second, she’ll fix this,” Joanna said. She refused to look at Evelyn, it would only make things hurt more.

“Joanna!” Evelyn screamed now. “It’s me or millions of others. Take me out. Take me out.”

But the more Evelyn spoke, the more she knew Joanna wasn’t going to do it. That thought was a shot of fire in her veins. She backed up against the gun on her head, rolling on her back, bringing her cuffed hands in front of her, pushing her feet through her arms in the desperate attempt to save everyone’s lives. In the process, she took off the Faraday bracelet on her ankle.

Evelyn’s hands were almost in the process of pulling a power outage when she heard “Enough of this” and she felt herself stop. She was at the mind control’s device mercy. Joanna was still frozen, gun held up, frowning now. It wasn’t all powerful, but it was strong enough to compel the both of them to do what he wanted.

Antelmo sounded more annoyed than afraid on how close she was to escaping, “Back to the matter at hand. Joanna…” he placed a hand on her shoulder. He whispered while holding his eyes on Evelyn kneeling in front of them. “You must choose.”

“Joanna,” Evelyn pleaded. This was it. This was the end. She came closer to her, and held her hands, placing the barrel of the gun to her head. “It’s either me or the both of us. You don’t have to die. You can go back to Georgia and see your mom and your dogs. Choose me.”

"One or millions, Joanna," Antelmo smiled.

There were no more tears from her. Evelyn knew this was the end, there was no need for tears. She stared deep into Joanna’s blue eyes. She didn’t dare close her eyes.

“Okay,” Joanna said quietly. “I choose one.”

Before Evelyn could think, her forehead felt cold from the absence of the gun barrel. She looked up and made to grab the gun, but Joanna pushed her back. Evelyn watched her reach back with one hand and grabbed Antelmo by the collar. She didn’t let go of Evelyn’s eyes when his head was flush to hers. For a quick moment, Joanna looked relieved, like she was in paradise. After that quick moment, there was that earth-shattering explosion from a gun at close quarters. Quick moment after quick moment, Evelyn’s body was her own and everyone was on the ground, bodies crackling with electricity.

Evelyn wanted a fire fight. She wanted bullets to fly by her as she was helpless under Antelmo and his ugly helmet. She wanted explosions and screams and blood. Those held chances for Evelyn. She’d take any of those than what she got. The momentary burst of electricity, then the limp stillness to match the settling dust of the abandoned building.

“Joanna?” she whispered, gently, as if anything louder would break the world.

Everything was a blur of numbness. She felt herself move towards her, clutch her, feel the lack of her pulse, hold her in her arms. But none of it seemed real, like she was dreaming, like she was watching from afar.

If only it was a dream.


	10. 10. Age of Ultron

#### May 6th, 2015, 2AM

_She was pushing and pulling the water, her legs working to move her forward through the black liquid. Sometimes she could see things, images, brief flashes. They were still dark, but it wasn’t the water. She’d seen it before, the screaming, the breathlessness, the hits taken and thrown, the crushing weight of the concrete until Cap pulled her out and that image disappeared under the water. Then another. A gun in her hand, she knew it was a gun, it was cold but the heat of what it could do that burned her hand. Then the gun was pointed at someone else, just not her, and there was that ear-splitting explosion. There was blood, and the silence. Then Joanna’s face, a hole where her cheek should have been, and faces she’d grown up with all gone under the concrete, other unfamiliar faces and body parts, bleeding from knives and guns and violence that was hers and wasn’t hers. Theirs. She couldn’t move now, the black water turned into syrup, she couldn’t breathe. The breathlessness was back, but it was here, not a memory, not an image drifting by. She screamed, she could hear herself screaming, how could she scream. Her fear, her fatigue, the water rushing in and suffocating her, the sounds all turned into—_

Ringing. Must have been a dream. It only rang in emergencies.

_Shit._

Evelyn, half asleep, fumbled around her night stand, knocking a lamp down. But the phone was in her hand in the next second.

“Blocked number” meant no one else but the boss.

“This is Galvani,” Evelyn said, adding her codename.

“Agent, it’s Leonid,” Fury’s voice came through.

“No offense, sir, but it’s 2 in the morning so this better be good,” she said.

Fury began scolding her for the lack of updates on her assignment, and Evelyn retorted by saying Maria Hill was supposed to forward her reports to him. A good 30 seconds on her side of the argument, Fury interrupted with an “Akari, Hill’s been forwarding me your updates. That was just me making sure it really is you on the phone.” Then he proceeded to tell her to do “whatever the hell” Stark was going to call her in for. He didn’t wait for a response before he hung up. About an hour after that, her phone started blasting the Game of Thrones theme, earning an exclamation of frustration from Evelyn as she threw her blankets off of her to pick up the phone.

“This is the most _ungodly_ hour you could possibly calling right now, I hope it’s an emergency,” she screamed at Stark.

“This is very much an emergency,” Stark said. “I accidentally created a murderous artificial intelligence that may or may not destroy a whole country.”

Evelyn pinched herself and did a double take on a clock to make sure wasn’t dreaming. When she remained in the same spot and the time only changing by a minute, she was sure she heard him right.

But before she could exclaim or demand further explanation, Stark came through with a, “We’re on the way to said artificial intelligence location and we’re picking you up.”

“What do you mean artificial intelligence location?” Evelyn butt in. “How could you lose an artificial intelligence?”

He sighed heavily, “It sort of created its own body. Just give me your extraction point coordinates, Evie. There’s not much time left to argue.”

“But I—”

“Evie, I’d love to win this snark competition, but there are lives at stake. What are your extraction coordinates?”

Evelyn sighed, shaking her covers off, her feet touching the cold floor of the apartment. She recited the numbers Hill had equipped her with, “44 degrees, 30 minutes, 53.7 seconds North, and 26 degrees, 3 minutes, 39.4 seconds East.”

“Coolio, Sparky. See you in about… 45 minutes, one hour tops.”

Then he hung up, leaving Evelyn in silence. Then she scrambled, finding her tactical suit and her wig.

A knock came on her door as she was in the middle of pinning her wig in. Evelyn could tell it was Barnes right away from the electrical activity his metal arm, the neon sign that screamed his presence.

“Evelyn, you okay?” he quietly whispered through the door. “I heard yelling.”

She resisted yelling at him to come in and made her way to the door instead. She threw the door open, but did not linger.

“What’s happening?” he was fully alert, indicating that he hadn’t really been sleeping. He was shivering in the thin shirt he was wearing, crossing his arms to try to keep the warmth in.

Evelyn stood still for a moment and took the time to smile at him, “It’s okay, Stark called me in. He’s fucked up big time, and he needs me to help him fix it.”

Barnes was looking at her up and down, not used to her in a tactical suit or the blue head of hair, “Am I still dreaming or are you dressed like a really pretty…” he stuttered.

When he saw her blush, he quickly tore his eyes away, his left hand combing through his hair as he stared at his feet, “Anyway, after that stuff on the news, I was only waiting for the other shoe to drop. They were bound to call you in sooner or later. And if the fate of the world relies on you, I’d prefer it sooner.”

That kept her still, and she tried to grin, but she only managed a shaky smile.

Then Evelyn shook herself from the trance, “Oh, I have—” and went back to the dining table, where she had a mirror propped up. She sat down, and picked up a pin. But she couldn’t hold her hand steady to pick one up. Her hand slammed on the table, on the pile of pins, but only managed to scatter it. Why was it suddenly difficult to do a simple task?

“Hey,” Barnes’s soft voice broke the silence. He was kneeling on the floor, picking up the fallen pins. Then he stood up, “It’ll be okay. That’s what you always say, isn’t it?”

Evelyn put her head in her hands and breathed, but it was shaky, why was everything so shaky? “What if I can’t do this? All the stuff I’ve done before, most were never this—” she stuttered, trying to find the words.

“World changing?” Bucky filled in for her.

She laughed sardonically, “I was going to say ‘big,’ but yeah, I hardly did stuff where the fate of the world is in my hands. And when they were, when they are...” She was staring at them now, watching them shake, “They can’t even hold still.”

Evelyn recalled the last time they shook this bad.

Then Bucky was in front of her, dropping the pins and picking her hands up, holding them between his.

“See this?” he said, pointing at their hands with his eyes. “I’m holding them still now. See how easy that was?”

Evelyn worked past the heat creeping up her face and shook her head, “I… I don’t see—”

“You’re not alone. You don’t have to hold the fate of the world by yourself,” he looked deep into her eyes with the utmost sincerity, still holding her hands.

“Your Team’s got you. Romanoff, Stark,” then he stopped, and looked down. A mixture of anguish and longing crossed his face. “Steve Rogers has you. If I know anything about him, he’s right by you. He’s rock solid. You’re stand on the right side, so he stands with you. They all do.”

A smile crept on his face, one she’d never coaxed out of him before, “Plus, you’re not so different from Steve. Loyal, fucking stubborn. Sticking with me. And the blue hair on you almost makes you as patriotic as him.”

She laughed a real laugh, but the nervousness was coming through, but relief as well. She used his words to steady herself. The Team. Romanoff. Stark. Rogers. Barnes. Team. Nat. Tony. Steve. Bucky.

Eventually, she breathed easier, and her hands were more comfortable in Bucky’s. It was that comfort that made her slip her hands away.

Bucky stood, rubbing his hands together, as if prepping for surgery, “So, what look are we going for?”

Evelyn took her head out of her hands, “What the hell are you talking about?”

He held the pins up and grinned, “Your hair, how do you want it to look?”

 

They both stepped out into the dark Bucharest street at 3 in the morning, Barnes insisting to walk her as far as the street before the drop off point. He wore his baseball cap, what he always considered to make him invisible. Evelyn wore her pajamas over her tactical suit and the parka that she always wore over her that. Despite their layers, neither of them were warm.

Evelyn lifted her hand for the fifth time up to scratch her head, but Barnes smacked it away for the fifth time as well, “Stop that.”

She had already complained too much, so she would just do what he said. “Don’t want to mess up the masterpiece, huh?”

Barnes snorted, “Damn right.”

He managed to braid the hair into a ponytail so her eyes were free from loose strands.

“Did all men know how to fix hair back then? Or is this a newly acquired skill?” Evelyn picked her words carefully, cautious of anything that would bring things back.

But he just chuckled, “Sister. I liked helping her out. Eventually came in handy with this mop on my head.”

That coaxed a cackle out of her, “Your hair is just as fabulous as mine, Bucky-boy. But you are due for a haircut.”

Then it was his turn to laugh, “You’ll never get on my level.”

That was ten minutes ago when Barnes gave her a half-hearted goodbye wave. Now Evelyn was waiting in the empty field alone, pulling her jacket closer towards her for warmth when the quinjet roared over her head, throwing dust and grass in her face, blue hair from her tight wig whipping in the excited air, strands still escaped Barnes’s meticulous styling.

The jet was still settling on the ground when the bay door opened, Captain America in the middle of the mouth of the jet, the buzzing white blue lights inside the jet giving him a statue-like silhouette.

Her heart went to her throat, mind immediately going to Barnes, who probably had started his trek back home. Steve was one of the names James muttered in his sleep and would soon forget when he woke, but Evelyn knew it was there in his head. The guilt of keeping Barnes from Rogers that she had forgotten over the past few months was returning, and the sight of the latter only made her want to hurl.

“Evelyn,” Rogers nodded when the quinjet finally settled on the dusty field. “Thank you for joining us.”

She jogged to the open bay doors and up the incline and shook his hand, trying to rival his grip. “I was just wondering why you didn’t call me in any sooner,” she said with a scolding tone. She wanted to avoid his eyes, but she thought that would make things worse. When she made contact with Cap’s green-flecked blues, the guilt didn’t go away.

The quinjet still looked the same, with its holey metal walls and the comfortability that it looked like it lacked. It was less empty the last time she saw it. The whole team was cramped in. Thor, in his huge build and sitting over his billowing cape, was forced into one of the small seats at the center of the floor, all buckled up. He shifted every second, uncomfortable at his restraints. Beside him was Barton, just as buckled up. His bow and arrows were at his feet, clad in his tactical suit, waiting for their destination like a child on a family trip. Banner was beside him, wearing sweats, headphones atop his ears.

Rogers scanned her attire, cocking his head in confusion, “We thought you’d be unprepared. And obviously you are. I like the new hair, though.”

She involuntarily tucked loose strands behind her ear, resisting the urge to scratch at the wig over the layers of bobby pins digging into her scalp, “I wanted more red and white, but that would be copping your style.”

The man chuckled, tearing his eyes from her, placing his eyes on his shoes, “Did Tony tell you what we’re up against?” Rogers’s eyes found their way back to Evelyn’s.

She shrugged, “Killer robot with artificial intelligence.”

“With an army,” Cap added.

She shrugged again, “A nice change of scenery from the quiet streets of my secret assignment location.”

Thor looked up from his uneasiness and waved spasmodically, flashing his teeth, “Your hair is eccentric, Evelyn. Like that of a needle-tongued sprite.”

“Uh…Thank you?” Evelyn wondered how such a fearsome god could look like so child-like.

“Hey, Sparky!” Clinton exclaimed, but the flatness of his face betrayed his voice.

“Katniss,” she nodded reflexively.

Banner only nodded at her for a second, returning immediately to his deep thinking as he stared at the grated floor of the quinjet.

Tony scoffed from the pilot’s seat, “Hill was very adamant about not calling you in. So was Fury. What’s up with that anyway? Does everybody know what you’re doing in Romania besides me?” He pressed a button on the panel and the door closed behind her.

“Buckle in, kid,” Rogers said, showing her to a seat behind Thor.

She hasn’t seen these people since Kolkata, and for a second, it felt like before. But too many missing bodies, all ghosts in their mind. And new additions. Evelyn noticed a woman in a red leather jacket with dark hair and dark eyes sitting at the corner of the jet, sitting in her seat more uncomfortably than Thor was, as if trying to shrink out of existence. She stared at Evelyn, as if trying to figure her out.

Evelyn suddenly felt a small poking in her brain, and the sight, feeling, and smell of murder with her own hands flashed in her mind for a brief second. She was in her apartment, Barnes was on the floor, electrodes on his head, but he was cold, and she wasn’t, and her hands were blue with his electricity. It felt like it was an old, horrific memory and she really had killed Barnes with a mistake. There was banging on the door, and it burst open. A man in a labcoat, smelling strongly of burnt hair was—

Evelyn was breathing hard all of a sudden, as if air was punched out of her lungs. She was back at the quinjet, the welcoming and familiar walls of the quinjet. Her hands were gripping the edge of her seat, white-knuckled. What the hell was that? The quinjet was quiet, no one else was bothered. No one else felt the urge to burst into tears or throw up or both.

The woman looked just as freaked, not looking at her anymore.

By then, two seconds had passed and the fear shrank like the woman trying to shrink out of existence. The vision was at the back of her mind, quickly fading, Evelyn allowed it to fade. But traces of it will always be there if she thought about it hard enough.

It was as if nothing happened, only a residual feeling of the darkness partly clouded her mind. The fear of accidentally killing Barnes. Going back. Going back to what? Evelyn didn’t know, but she couldn’t help but dwell on it, but not being able to place the reason why it was there.

“Wanda,” a voice called out from the other side of the quinjet, taking her digging thoughts away. A man with silver hair with similar features as the woman, was staring at the woman, scolding her with his eyes.

The woman, Wanda, took her eyes off of Evelyn to apologetically look at the man.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” the man said, and it surprised Evelyn that she understood. Orsi, the old lady next door, had introduced Evelyn to basic Sokovian despite her not asking for it.

Wanda replied in a faster pace, and that was the end of what Evelyn understood.

“That’s Wanda, brother Pietro over there. Enhanced we’ve met in the field, willing to help us out,” Rogers pointed to the man and the woman, introducing them to Evelyn. He nodded at them, conveying his deep appreciation with just a look of his eyes.

Rogers explained that Pietro had increased metabolism that allowed him to run at enhanced speeds.

“If you stick around, Maximoff, we’ll be able to measure how fast you can really go. I’m betting on Mach 4. Anyone else?” Stark tried to engage.

There was an awkward silence in the jet, and Steve continued, “Wanda had some form of telekinesis. Something about psionics and neuro-electric interface.”

Banner added bitterly, “She can also stick her hand in your head and control you like a puppet.”

“Bruce _,_ ” Rogers stopped, but he didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. He was recalling. From his bio-electric activity, Evelyn could tell it was painful. She had felt it just minutes ago.

"Please stay out of my head," Evelyn asked politely, voice quiet, trying not to stir the already tense air.

There was a silence that settled over them in the confined spaces of the quinjet. Everyone was uncomfortable, in pain, wanting to jump out of their seat and take a long walk. But their discomfort remained in here, along with the underlying dislike of what Wanda could do to them, has done, will do.

Wanda shifted in her seat, wanting to burst out in fury, but a quiet and cold anger came out of her mouth, “I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you all.” She seemed to focus the most on Evelyn, eyes deep in apology.

“As soon as this is over, I’ll be out of your sight,” Wanda concluded, voice petering out into a mutter.

“ _You Sokovian?_ ” Evelyn asked the her in her mother tongue. The whole quinjet was glad for the subject change, everyone seemed to let out the breath they were all holding.

“Are you?” Wanda spoke, with the same accent that she hears Orsi speak in every day.

“No,” Evelyn said. “I just know someone.”

Wanda nodded.

Stark called out from the cockpit, “Don’t forget introduce the jewel of the team.”

“Who?”

Rogers sighed exasperatedly, but before he could explain, a presence rose from the ground in front of her and solidified, floating just inches from the ground. Evelyn couldn’t help but jump in her seat, and the lights in the jet buzzed out into the flashing red of emergency and gathered themselves into Evelyn’s hand.

“God _damn_ it, Evie,” she heard Clint exclaim.

Wanda clutched at her seat, muttering in Sokovian with her eyes shut in fear.

“What’s happening?” she heard Banner behind her.

Guessing from how relaxed Rogers was beside her—apart from the tense he was feeling from suddenly being plunged into emergency lights—the figure that materialized in front of her was not a threat.

“Reel it in, Eve,” Stark said, flatly scolding like a tired parent with a hyperactive child. “You’re screwing with the jet’s systems. We’ll be crashing momentarily.”

Evelyn did as she was told, and the flashing red lights turned the usual white blue, the electricity she took was released like a held breath. In the light, she could see the figure well now, but she gaped with caution. It was probably a foot taller than her with features completely human besides the matte red skin with metallic accents that had too much emoting and moving features to be a mask. The bluish armor that the figure wore was skin tight. Hell, it could be skin for all she knew. There was a different energy about the figure, strongest at the forehead where a shining gem was set at a point of vibranium. It wasn’t the normal electrical activity that humans gave off. But it was familiar, and it made her stomach flip.

The figure spoke in a familiar accent, “I apologize for scaring you, Ms. Akari.”

“Why do you sound like J.A.R.V.I.S.?” Evelyn squeaked out, her heart still racing. At the corner of her eye, Wanda was smirking.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. was uploaded into the cerebral matrix of an artificial living organism built in Helen Cho’s Regeneration Cradle. And here I am.” The figure raised arms, as if showing off his features. There was a small smile on his mouth.

“Jesus,” Evelyn worked up to mutter, still staring at the figure. When she finally tore her eyes away, she apologized. “Sorry… sir. Sir, right?”

The J.A.R.V.I.S. incarnate nodded, “Him, his pronouns will suffice.”

“He means no harm, Evelyn. Not to us, at least. He is the prow beast of this mighty fighting ship,” Thor said proudly, like a Viking lord talking about his fruitful raids.

“Right,” Evelyn found herself staring at Vision again, trying to figure out what was different, artificial, inhumanly, about him.

“Touchdown in 5, boss,” said a woman’s robotic voice above them.

“And that’s the new J.A.R.V.I.S., I’m guessing,” Evelyn said, her voice relaxing in the presence of the new species in front of her.

“She has a name, Akari. It’s F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Stark quipped. To the U.I., he said, “Land the bird nicely, will you F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

The U.I. complied with an Irish toned “Sure thing, boss.”

He flicked a switch and like an airplane, the lights for unbuckling seatbelts came on. Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as they unbuckled their seatbelts and stood from their seats. Barton made his way to the right wing of the jet, pulling out a compartment. He began tossing out communication devices.

“Haven’t used these in a while,” Evelyn remarked.

“It won’t be long until we get there,” Stark said, swiveling his seat to look at them.

There was a buzz in the room, Evelyn could feel it. None of them knew what could be out there. And there was no plan to match the unknown. It was default to feel helpless in the short calm before the storm.

“Ultron knows we’re coming,” Steve began. “Odds are we’ll be riding into heavy fire. And that’s what we signed up for. But the people of Sokovia, they didn’t. So, our priority is getting them out.”

The Team gathered turned to face Rogers full of determination. Evelyn was just riding with it, only knowing that the fate of the world was in their hands.

His words soaked Evelyn to the bone with resolve. If she could evacuate the whole S.H.I.E.L.D. facility during the Triskelion attacks, then she would. But she couldn’t. This was redemption.

“The area near the church is the most populated,” Pietro got his word in as Cap paused.

Cap nodded, “We’ll start evacuation from there and out. Banner, Thor, you find out what Ultron’s been building and Romanoff.”

Evelyn’s heart jumped to her throat, realizing what was missing, “What the hell happened to Romanoff?”

Barton sighed, and looked at Stark, “You really didn’t brief her?”

“There wasn’t a lot of time,” Stark defended.

“Ultron took her during the Cradle recovery mission,” Clint turned to Evelyn, rolling his eyes. “Nat said she’s somewhere dark, cold, probably underground.”

 “Probably the HYDRA research facility. It was pretty dark and nasty when I went in there,” Stark piped up.

Evelyn felt like listening to a conversation in a foreign language with the new information, but she only nodded as if she understood.

 “Shall we go?” Thor asked Banner.

Stark swiveled to the front and pressed a button, and the bay door let in the chill Sokovian air. The quinjet hovered over a mortar building atop a hill with square windows throughout. If the windows were barred, it would have looked like an insane asylum.

“I didn’t have a fanfare prepared for your exit, your Highness,” Stark said.

The thunder god began spinning his hammer, the sound of it louder than the quinjet’s repulsor tech blaring outside.

“Bruce,” Thor said, holding his hand out to the sweat clad man.

“He prefers bridal style,” Barton called out before Thor grabbed Banner by the waist and sped out of the jet, the quinjet door shutting behind them.

“The rest of us,” Cap continued as the jet settled into quiet, “do our best to clear the field. Keep the fight between us.”

A hush settled over the space, hearts racing, fingers twitching, wanting to get the hell out of there and do the job. But that hesitation before starting a big mission that Evelyn always felt was there in all of them that minute.

She was going to go out there, and there were going to be people that will rely on her. She can’t fail them. Not again.

“Ultron thinks we’re monsters. That we’re what’s wrong with the world,” Rogers said, voice successfully trying not to break.

Evelyn didn’t know Ultron, what he’s really done, what his agenda was, but he was wrong. The Team wasn’t perfect. These people surrounding her weren’t perfect, but they were the best she knew. Flawed, but their intentions were what she thought was the best. The Avengers were there to counteract the wrong, like they did in Kolkata, like in New York. She’d fight and die for them and for the cause. She knew that since the start. Joanna did, too.

“This isn’t just about beating him, it’s about whether he’s right,” Rogers concluded.

After a brief silence, Stark piped up, “One question. Evelyn, are you fighting in your teddy bear pajamas?”

 

* * *

 

 “You _do_ look eccentric,” Clint said as they walked down an empty street of Novi Grad. “Especially with those goggles on.”

He was talking about the piece of glass strapped to Evelyn face. Stark had tossed the dark blue tinted goggles at her before he flew out of the jet in his suit, leaving it up to her how to figure it out. Once she placed it on her face and adjusted the straps, the thing hummed to life and streams of blue swam in her vision, varying where she looked. It was like the veins and arteries in a human body was suddenly visible to her naked eye. The electricity that she felt became what she saw, her focus was refined, the electricity more tangible, less time wasted on finding it just by groping in the dark.

“Like a needle tongued sprite about to shred snow,” Barton joked as the last of the citizens on the street left their homes and migrated to the nearest way out of the city.

Evelyn had just shut down the power from the while block, and everyone, at the crack of dawn, poked their heads out, wondering why their morning routine was interrupted. Then Barton called Pietro in, who called out his evacuation speech that he had refined by the fourth street they cleared, sometimes going house to house to speak to the people personally. Once people were pouring out of their homes, Pietro sped off, finding more citizens to wake up.

“I just don’t understand why Stark had to make them _blue_. Who am I? Captain America the Second?” Evelyn complained, scanning her surroundings with both the goggles and her own sense. The people passing by stared as long as they could at Evelyn and Clint, then quickly attending to their own panic and confusion during their trek out of the city.

Rogers buzzed into their comms, “What, I thought you liked my style, Evelyn.”

“You do have that blue hair going on,” Stark cut in.

Evelyn scoffed, “It’s for—”

“Identity concealment, we know,” Barton interrupted.

“Are we evacuating the city or are we have a nice chat over tea?” Pietro’s sarcastic voice came through the conversation.

“We don’t ‘tea,’ Speedy,” Stark quipped. “We shawarma.”

“If shawarma’s initiation, then I’ve never been part of the team,” Evelyn said as she and Barton moved into the next street.

“Our area’s clear, Cap,” Barton said through the comms.

“I could use a little help,” Wanda said in between her Sokovian commands that evacuated people near her.

“Clint, Eve, head to the bridge, try to make it a little less hectic,” Rogers said.

“I’m going to church,” Stark said, his feed cutting out.

“Whatever that means,” Clint muttered. He punched a car window in, throwing the door open while Evelyn just stared at his vandalism.

Barton shut the door as he got in the driver’s seat, “Well, are you walking?”

 

Evelyn couldn’t do anything except watch the mass exodus of the Sokovians from Novi Grad. She hardly spoke the language; all she could say was “It’ll be okay” every few seconds when someone had the courage to walk near her. Maybe it was the goggles that made her seem unapproachable.

“There’s no way we’re getting all these people out on time,” Evelyn said, making sure not to panic everyone around her. “We don’t even know what your AI’s planning. We don’t even know how long we have. We don’t even—”

“Evelyn, c’mon,” Steve sighed through the comms.

“You’re starting to freak me out. More than I already was,” Pietro said, holding on to every syllable.

“Anyone else think we’re out of our depth here?” Evelyn muttered, trying to seem calm through the panic as people looked at her.

“Oh, shit,” Tony suddenly came on. “We might be a little out of our depth here.”

A chill went down Evelyn’s spine and she met eyes with Wanda a few feet from her. There was growing fear in those eyes.

“Wh—”

Before Evelyn could finish the question, an android burst out from below the bridge. Then a dozen more, then more after that, flying around, creating explosions at their whim.

Evelyn counted and tagged the nearest androids, 8 in total, before overloading them with electricity from her arc reactor. After that 8 explosions in the sky had taken the place of the androids.

“So, that worked,” Evelyn said to herself, watching the remains of androids fall on the ground, watching Sokovians scream in panic at the exploding objects in front of them.

Wanda screamed in Sokovian, pointing elsewhere, guiding people in a general direction. A few more of Ultron’s sentries surrounded her, more flying past, raining fire on them. Evelyn quickly pulled the energy from one and overloading the next, her arms moving in coordinated motion that had the nearest sentries dropping like flies.

But they were still too many.

“I’m assuming there’s a change in the game plan?” Evelyn screamed at the comms.

 “Keep evacuating,” Steve said in between huffs. “If not, then take cover. No matter what, keep civilians safe and turn these things to ash.”

Evelyn grounded herself and regulated her breathing. She pulled energies of sentries flying past when a few landed on the bridge and brandished their weapons, glowing green, pulsating to life. Before she could do anything about it, they fired. But a wave of red deflected their blasts, and Wanda was beside her with needle focus.

“Run!” Wanda said in English to the people behind her. They did as they were told with enough panic that Evelyn could detect it without concentrating.

Evelyn worked harder, using her feet to turn in all directions to take down the threats coming from all sides. Then Wanda took a shot from the sentries and she was on the ground. Evelyn didn’t hesitate to clear the sentries in front of them, their metal bodies exploding in sparks or dropping to the ground like dolls as she overloaded them with each other’s electric energy.

“Come on!” Evelyn demanded as she helped Wanda up by her arms.

There were still too many civilians on the ground taking fire from overhead sentries. Evelyn tried to formulate a temporary plan as she took down sentries that tried to come at her.

“I’ll try to hold off the bots attacking large groups. Wanda, cover me. Try to get the people to take cover in that building over there. Barton, take down strays, anything I miss.” Evelyn said, her voice taking on a different tone. One that sounded like the Captain.

“Do you mind if I get on a roof?” Barton’s voice came through the comms as well as a few feet away from her.

“It doesn’t matter, just cover us here on the ground,” Evelyn said. “When we’re clear with this square, we continue evacuation. Am I clear?”

“As day,” Barton said, his voice clearer in the comms as he ran into a building.

Wanda nodded at her.

And they began. Wanda ran, guiding civilians in Sokovian, her red auras appearing at sites of impact, deflecting blasts of blue from overhead sentries. Evelyn was right behind her, taking down any sentries that dared land on the ground. With her sense dialed up to 11 with the goggles, Evelyn had an easier time taking down sentries, pulling and overloading. Wanda dutifully prevented the dead sentries from falling dangerously, and taking care of occasional blasts that came at Evelyn, while Barton shot down targets that Evelyn had missed from a nearby roof.

Then most of the sentries started to head to Evelyn’s left, as if their hive mind called their attention elsewhere. The few that were left dropped like flies at the trio’s individual abilities.

“Anyone else seeing this?” Barton expressed their confusion.

“Yeah, Barton, Wanda, check out where they’re heading,” Evelyn said. “I’ll stay back and keep these people safe. If you see anyone else, send them to me.”

She approached a sentry corpse nearby, the goggles indicating there was no electrical life to it. Evelyn grabbed at the cannon on its arm and yanked it out with a foot keeping the rest of the arm down. She found the components that triggered the firing mechanism. With the nearby electrical posts, Evelyn powered up the arm cannon and shot a blast at another dead sentry a few feet away. She could have laughed at her new gadget, but the circumstances didn’t provide for the mood.

In a few minutes, Barton was on the ground, “Let’s go, Maximoff.”

“I’ll get these people out of the city,” Evelyn said, reassuring Wanda, who didn’t look like she wanted to leave.

“What about you?”

“I can handle myself. They might need you more than they need me,” Evelyn said, and for a moment, her heart ached at the familiarity of the words.

Wanda thought about it, her eyes fading out for a split second before nodding, “Have them go that way, it’s the best road out of the city.” Then she slowly followed Barton up a cobblestoned street.

Evelyn turned back to the people, staring back at her, “You heard her. RUN! GO!” She pointed down the street. Those that understood her took those that didn’t and ran where she pointed. When a sentry flew past, they all screamed, but Evelyn was there to take it down whether with her own powers or the stolen arm cannon.

There were more people left in the building, either scared of the sentry threat or of her. She pleaded to them, “Keep going! I’ll be here to—”

Her spiel was interrupted by a faint rumbling at her feet, and as it crescendoed, the earth began to crack before their eyes, just a few yards away. The crack began to approach them. At the parting of the earth, one side began to rise, along with Evelyn’s panic.

“Get out of that building!” she screamed, and they did as they were told. The cracking earth split the building, the building dividing into two sloppy pieces. On the other side of the split, the ground began to rise, half of the buildings teetering over the edge, giving into gravity, their rubble threatening to crush anyone in their way.

The dust was up, nothing was visible, no one could see. But Evelyn could, bioelectric activity everywhere. She ran to them, pushing them away from falling debris and dropping buildings and into the opposite direction. The direction of safety. She pleaded for them to get up, run. There was too much screaming. Some of those she approached were still and cold, electric activity waning. If she stared long enough, their blank eyes and their blood would become visible through the dust, their bodies clear through the rubble. Evelyn didn’t want to see.

Her comms was a chaos of conversations, the team yelling at each other, looking for explanations, grunts and sounds of tiring and panic.

Evelyn ignored it as she got up. She didn’t know she had fallen. There were people still standing, staring at the carnage. She told them to run, but she didn’t know if they heard her. Her throat was sore, and her vision was blurry.

A harsh voice interrupted the havoc around her, and everything seemed to settle into a chaotic hush to let the voice come through, “Do you see the beauty of it? The inevitability. You rise only to fall.”

Sentries were flying past now, each with the same voice, the same speech, collectively being given as they rained down fire on the ground.

“You, Avengers, you are my meteor. My swift and terrible sword. And the earth will crack with the weight of your failure,” the sentries all said. Evelyn found herself involuntarily shutting them down with a pull of her hands, her body storing the electricity.

The people were running away now, and she was running with them as more buildings fell behind them. There was so much screaming, she passed so many fallen, eyes shut, their blood on the ground, forever oblivious to the state of the city.

The confident and cruel voice grew farther, but Evelyn could hear it still, “When the dust settles, the only thing living in this world will be metal. Evelyn. _Evelyn_.”

“Evelyn!” the voice said. No, it was a different voice, more human, familiar. How did she get that mixed up?

“Evelyn, come in, god damn it,” Cap scolded.

“Where’s Evelyn? Is she alright?” Stark came in.

She pushed past the shock and the fatigue to say, “I’m here. Sorry, I’m here.” Her voice was hoarse, barely audible to her. Maybe it was the screaming and the crying around her. Or the ringing in her ears.

She approached a woman screaming for help, tugging at a man whose lower half was under a pile of rubble. No bio-electric activity. Everything around her was shut out as Evelyn tried to pry the woman away, but she resisted as she wailed. The pieces of earth floating above them were cracking, threatening to fall on them. Evelyn pleaded, but she felt only half lucid. The rest of her was shaken up, resisting any movement and rational thought she dared to make, wanting to shrink inside herself and never come out.

The woman pushed Evelyn away, hard enough that she stumbled back, before she and the man disappeared under a descending crash of wreckage.

The shadow loomed above Evelyn, like the death around her took actual physical form. She looked up to see a large mass of earth floating, rising at a steady pace.

“ _Evelyn_ , are you hurt?” Steve asked, his voice urgent and worried at the same time, pulling her out of the hell that sucked her in each time she didn’t focus on his voice.

“We need your location,” Captain America scolded her one more time.

She kept a sob from racking her, “I’m here, I’m here. I’m okay. On the ground. About seven blocks south from where the bridge is—was.”

“I got her locked in, three klicks south from you, Thor,” Stark came in. He said something about a tub

Her eyes were focused on the distant dark hole where a good chunk of the city used to be until more screams shook her out of her stupor. Ultron’s sentries had returned, and terrorizing the survivors of the breaking of the earth.

“Stark, you worry about bringing the city back down safely,” Steve buzzed into their comms. He was the only speaking voice, everyone else had their earpieces picking up labored breathing.

“The rest of us have one job: tear these things apart.”

And Evelyn did the job, moving from street to street, pulling energies and overloading them, keeping as much Sokovians out of the line of fire, telling them to get out of there. But every time she opened her mouth and every time she numbly took down a sentry, she felt the failure of her actions. People died, were dying, will die, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

The last of the sentries on this street landed before her, not hesitating to pull its arm cannon out. But before Evelyn could attack it, a flash of blue and red landed hard on the robot, crushing it into pieces. Thor straightened his posture from his landing, hammer in his hand.

“All hands on deck up there,” said the god, reach his arm out for Evelyn.

She took the necessary steps to him, but her feet were numb. She clung to him as tight as she could as he spun his hammer and whisked her away from the ground, she watched the carnage below disappear as they rose.

As she and Thor approached the rock, two cars teetered off the edge. One, Cap caught by the bumper, but the other submitted to gravity, quickly passing Evelyn and Thor with a loud rush of air. He flew faster, set her down on the broken bridge, and dove for the falling car.

Evelyn could only watch as Steve struggled to hold on to the bumper, and when it broke off, she almost screamed.

“Evie, don’t waste time, get those people under building cover,” Steve instructed as he jumped off, disappearing over the edge.

There was momentary panic, _what the fuck just happened? What do I do?_ Her hands shook at the need to do something. But she recalled Steve’s instructions. She looked back at the street behind her, where people still ran away from flying sentries.

She could only follow instructions now. Every passing sentry, she attacked with almost robotic fluidity and numbness, pulling or overloading. They’d drop or skidded, and every second of silence in between attacks was an opportunity to shepherd civilians into buildings.

She ignored the height they were climbing, and all the people down there suffering below at the wake of the rock. She was glad for the current numbness that came with following instruction. If she were down there, her panicked mind would be in hell.

Then all was quiet in the square she was on. Aside from the sounds of panic from the people cowering in the buildings, the thinning air was quiet. And her mind was loud.

Evelyn weaved through the civilians in the building. She passed woman crouching on the ground cradling a small girl crying about her bleeding leg.

“Shit,” Evelyn muttered and knelt down. “Speak English?”

The woman shook her head.

“ _Română_ _?"_ Evelyn asked about the only other language she knew.

Relief hit her when the woman nodded. They were all in luck. “ _Putin_.” A little bit.

“ _Can I touch your leg?_ ” she asked the girl. She nodded.

“ _Are you the mother?_ ” Evelyn asked the older woman, and she confirmed with a nod.

“ _How did she get hurt?_ ”

The mother started sobbing, “ _The bridge started cracking and her leg got caught and I pulled too hard. I was scared she would fall. It’s all my fault._ ”

The girl sobbed with her relative as Evelyn tenderly put pressure four inches above the ankle. “ _Does touching it hurt?_ ”

The girl nodded, “ _And walking._ ”

“ _Did you feel or hear a snap when it started hurting?_ ” Evelyn asked gently, as if she wanted a lollipop or a chocolate. Any other tone might have instilled fear in the child.

Despite Evelyn’s efforts to remain neutral, the girl sobbed and nodded through her tears.

Steve came on the comms again, almost interrupting Evelyn’s racing thoughts, “The next wave’s coming any minute. What do you got, Stark?”

 “Nothing great,” Stark answered Cap’s question, and Evelyn almost stopped what she was doing. “Maybe a way to blow up the city. That’ll keep it from impacting the surface if you guys can get clear.”

And the civilians on the rock. The fliers would have to carry them down. Or leave them here to die. The painstaking option or the non-option.

“ _I think your leg is broken. But it will be okay,_ ” Evelyn tried to reassure both child and older woman, ignoring the dilemma in the comms. More luck was realized when a wooden mop was lying beside building rubble. Evelyn immediately went to it and broke it in half.

“I asked for a solution,” Cap half-scolded, “not an escape plan.”

Evelyn listened to the conversation on the comms, flinching inside for as if preparation for a verbal bout between Steve and Tony.

“Cap, these people are going nowhere,” Nat came in the comms.

“And they’re dying here,” Evelyn muttered, tuning into the sounds of panic and suffering in the building.

The older woman realized what Evelyn was doing with the mop handle and took her sweater off. She began ripping it into strips and offered them to Evelyn.

“Mulțumesc,” Evelyn tried to smile. She wrapped the splintered end of the handle with cloth. “ _Stay still, okay?_ ”

“ _What’s your name?_ ” Evelyn asked the little girl, trying to keep her distracted as she placed the stick on her leg.

“Vasilisa,” she whimpered.

Evelyn feigned shock, “ _Vasilisa the Beautiful?_ ” She recognized the fairytale name. “ _It is an honor_ ,” Evelyn charmed. The girl laughed under her tears as Evelyn tied the splint down with the strips of cloth.

“You did good, honey,” Evelyn said in English when she finished. “ _No walking,_ ” she returned to Romanian. “ _And try not to move it. You did good. Both of you,_ ” she said to the two Sokovians.

Before that moment could settle into momentary peace, there was another commotion and Vasilisa’s mother pointed behind Evelyn. Evelyn almost snapped her neck as she turned, ready to attack another wave of sentries, but found empty skies.

“ _They’re calling for you,_ ” the mother said, nodding to a group of people surrounding a body.

The screaming woman clutched at an older man who was halfway to the ground, only saved from falling by others helping him on the ground. Someone scolded them in Sokovian and there was space again. Two men knelt beside the older couple, one was checking the collapsed man’s vital signs, checking for response, speaking rapidly to the other man.

Evelyn bolted to their side immediately, “What’s wrong?”

The second man was a boy, 16 at the most, yet his voice didn’t shake and his face was brave as he translated for Evelyn, “My brother’s a doctor. He says this man is going into cardiac arrest. You need to shock him.”

Evelyn forgot who she was for a second and how they knew what she could do. But she looked through the blue goggles once more and found that the collapsed man’s electrical pulses of the heart was spasmodic and dysfunctional.

“It’s V-Fib,” Evelyn said to the boy, who repeated it to the other man. She went through the motions, she’s done this before. In Kolkata. When that silence settled after that earsplitting bang. There won’t be a silence today. Not while she was alive.

She knelt between the two men and ripped the man’s shirt open, then she placed her right hand hovering over his heart and amassed electricity from dead sentries a few yards away. Her hand sparked in blue electricity. The unconscious man’s wife yelped and began scolding Evelyn. The 16-year-old and his brother came to Evelyn’s defense in rapid Sokovian.

“Tell her I have to restart his heart like this,” Evelyn said, but she was sure the doctor already argued it. After a few seconds of heated discussion, the wife settled and the doctor nodded.

“Clear!” Evelyn declared, and the doctor repeated the word in Sokovian, “Ясночиjк!”

An invisible moat separated her and the rest of the civilians as she pulsed sent a direct stream of electricity. Her left hand was over her own heart, sending copies of electrical impulses through her right hand to regulate the man’s heart.

When she ran out of sentry electricity, she stepped aside and let the doctor do CPR. The man’s heart still wasn’t following the beat of Evelyn’s heart.

But her panicked prayers were answered when Evelyn began to pay attention to the comms. Fury was speaking, though he was nowhere to be found when Evelyn looked around. She looked out to the sky and saw a helicarrier rising from the depths of the clouds.

“Holy shit,” Evelyn muttered.

Lifeboats from the helicarrier docked in front of the building, and agents tried to wave Sokovians in them. Everyone wanted to move, but they were still afraid.

“Pietro, you need to tell them it’s okay,” Evelyn said through her comms, knowing he was listening.

The 16-year-old boy tugged at her elbow, indicating the man was ready for another shock.

“Fury, do you have a medical equipment on board?” Evelyn screamed through her earpiece as Pietro appeared in front of the crowd, and preached. She didn’t wait for an answer before yelling at the lifeboat agents to bring a stretcher.

“Only the best. And Cho’s here, we picked up a portable Cradle,” Fury said. “How many injured you got?”

The lifeboat agents procured a stretcher and heaved the unconscious man into it, and Evelyn stayed by his side, trying to sync heartbeats. “I don’t know, I didn’t count,” Evelyn answered Fury with an empty answer.

She passed Pietro reassuring passing Sokovians, “Keep the girl off her leg. Count the injured and report it to the agents up there.” She nodded at Vasilica behind her and then to the lifeboat agents.

Pietro nodded in return.

“Do you have an AED on board?” Evelyn asked the agents, to which one of them replied “Yes, ma’am.”

“This man is in cardiac arrest,” was all she could say. “Top priority.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She grabbed Pietro by the elbow before he could zoom out, “Injured, old, and children on the boats first. There are more boats coming, tell them not to panic.”

“Okay,” he said, swallowing his own panic, and sped off to speed up the line to the boats.

“Evelyn,” Fury broke into the comms. “I need you in the helicarrier. Keep those sentries off these people. Think you can reach?”

“You got this, Maximoff,” she called out before waving. “Fury, I can reach, but I can’t just fly on board.”

“Gotchu,” she heard Rhodes’s voice in the comms. Before she realized what was happening, a block of metal hit her, and she was in the air.

“A warning next time!” she screamed as the adrenaline of being in the air filled her chest. “What if I thought you were a fucking sentry?”

Rhodey only laughed as he set her down by the edge of the helicarrier’s runway, just above where the Sokovians were unloading from the boat. The sky and the floating city was spread out before her, and it was beautiful if she didn’t think about the horror around everything.

“Go to work,” Rhodes said before he blasted off.

And Evelyn did, pulling and overloading sentries that Rhodes didn’t already catch. She spotted Vasilisa on the boat holding on to her mother. Evelyn waved at them before turning her attention back into the sky, spotting Ultron’s sentries flit past and turning them into pieces of metal.

“I got it!” Tony exclaimed through the comms. Evelyn could see him flying past, round and round the helicarrier, hitting sentries like it was a video game. He started explaining his hypothesis of a heat seal to prevent atomic action from doubling back. It made no sense to Evelyn, but he was the science guy.

“Rhodey, Evelyn,” Tony called out, “Get these people on the carrier.”

“What do you think we’ve been doing?” Evelyn screamed on top of the explosions as she spun around the helicarrier finding the next sentry to explode.

Tony snorted, “I don’t know, doing the rain dance? Avengers, it’s time to work for a living.”

It was quiet for a while as everyone fought in silence and concentration. Evelyn kept counting the noises in her earpiece, accounting for each person by their grunts and screams and out of breath huffs. By the time Steve had called her back to the flying city, she counted everyone was still alive.

“You guys got tired or something?” she said to Steve as Rhodey dropped her off.

“Hulk sucker punched Ultron’s body for some reason, there’s no threat to fight. Sentries scrambled. And Stark’s dropping the rock,” Steve summarized as they helped more people on board the boats, running through buildings to check for stragglers.

“So, just get on board then?” Evelyn asked through the comms.

“After this rock gets cleared,” Barton huffed, presumably running around the city too.

“Well, ground level’s clear,” she said, doing the last rounds of building checks.

Pietro appeared beside her with a blue aura trailing behind after checking the higher floors, “All clear up there.”

“I would race you to the boats but I’m at a clear disadvantage,” she grinned. He smirked back, throwing dust up as he sped away into a boat.

But before Evelyn could make her way to the nearest boat, she saw Barton get off another, running.

“Katniss, what the hell are you doing? This rock’s dropping any minute,” Evelyn said, running after him.

“There’s a kid unaccounted for,” he said, breath huffing.

They both had arrived at the same time, and Evelyn saw a child trying not to fall into a basement access. There was blood on his forehead. She was surprised the kid was still conscious.

“What’s your name, son?” Barton said as he picked the kid up,

“Costel,” the child whimpered as he submitted into the stranger’s arms, clutching at him. But the peace of the moment was interrupted by the sharp sound of the quinjet cutting air and then the subsequent explosions of the machine gun hitting the ground.

_Shit._

Evelyn held her hand out, trying to detect the quinjet’s energy. The goggles hardly helped. She saw everything but the quinjet.

“Evelyn, get out of here,” Barton scolded.

The quinjet spat bullets, its path will soon cross her.

“I can take it down, just a little bit closer,” she said. The threat of the guns drew closer, the explosions individual barks in her hear. She saw figures in the distance dropping at the behest of each landing bullet. A few seconds and she’d have it. She could take it down.

The jet was where she needed it to be in under a second, and she was ready for it, hand outstretched, body hungry for energy. But before she could pull it, a whip of blue passed by, punching her to the ground, breath knocked out, ears ringing.

There was a voice in the ringing, but she couldn’t make it out. She couldn’t make anything out. Which direction was which, she didn’t know. Someone was touching her neck, feeling for a pulse, maybe? She shook them off, she said she was okay. She tried to say so, but she couldn’t even feel her throat or her tongue in her mouth. She felt warm spreading into her left armpit. Was she sweating that much? She touched the growing wet spot. Was sweat red?

Then it all came back in a rush of images. The scream of the bullets hungry for blood, her hand was out, ready to take it down. Barton shielding the boy from the spray. Pietro running past. Shit.

She tried to get up, a sharp pain shot through her left arm, and she was on the ground again. She’d been shot, the stuff pooling in her hand was blood. Shit. A body dropped in front of her, Pietro’s blank eyes staring back. Was he okay? No, oh god, no. There was a scream building in her throat, but it wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Or it was all that came out of her mouth.

Barton appeared in her vision, and Cap was there too. One of them helped her up, she let them. The distance between where she lay and the boat was shortened, her vision going dark a couple times. They placed her on a seat, it was Steve. He was talking at her, his mouth was moving, but she couldn’t make it out. Her vision spotty. She heard herself say something, she could feel her mouth moving. She didn’t know what she said. She closed her eyes for a second, letting the city landscape turn into the back of her eyelids, then it wasn’t city anymore. Just sky. They must have taken off. Rogers sat beside her on her right, her head was on his shoulder as a man tend to her wound. She had a wound. There was an oxygen mask on her face, and she could breathe again. When couldn’t she breathe?

She couldn’t keep her eyes off the figure on the floor. A man. Familiar. Enhanced. Like her. Pietro. That’s his name. Wanda’s brother. He was so still. So quiet. Eyes shut the way that she’d seen dozens of people on the ground down there. The way that Joanna's had been at the end. Silent. Shit.

Her senses came back a few moments after. After what? Did it matter? After. She heard the crying on the boat, the medical explanations of injuries around her. Steve’s voice was clear, telling a story about his experiences in the present, trying to keep her awake. He told her about his first encounter with a microwave, couldn’t stop microwaving things for days. She laughed, or she thought she did. Bucky was still suspicious of the microwave in her apartment. When Steve didn’t push her off in confusion and anger, Evelyn was sure she didn’t say that out loud.

She could feel the medic dressing her gunshot wound on her shoulder, splinting it, rendering her arm immobile. She felt the crusting of the blood on her hands. And as she let her fatigue pull her into the darkness, she felt the tears blur her vision that would later fall in her sleep.

 

 

Evelyn woke thirty minutes ago, finding her goggles gone and her wig snatched while she was asleep. Her tac suit had been replaced with a hospital gown that wove around her backside. She was still groggy from whatever medication she was on, but she could hold a conversation with the patient on her right after they had established that Evelyn did not speak Sokovian.

“Where are you from?” said the old woman in a thick Sokovian accent, speech muffled by the oxygen mask strapped to her face. She identified herself as Magda. She was being treated for smoke inhalation after her building had caught fire during the rising of the city.

“Bucharest,” Evelyn mustered her best Romanian accent, trying to keep her American identity hidden. Whoever dealt with Evelyn’s injuries shed her blue wig, took her enhancing goggles, and changed her into civilian clothing. She was Evelyn in the infirmary, and not the Enhanced that the Sokovians saw running around the city.

Magda nodded, “I have granddaughter in Cluj, her name Magda as well, not as beautiful as me though.” The woman cackled warmly.

“Thank god her mother disowned her, otherwise she would have stay here and…” Magda drifted, her eyes seeing destruction and fires and falling buildings in the infirmary. Evelyn saw it too, every time she closed her eyes. “She’s all I have left now.”

Magda told Evelyn earlier about how she was separated from her family when the city began to rise. They went up, and she stayed down. The fire started seconds after, but S.H.I.E.L.D. got her out. She was lucid enough to identify the bodies that they were able to recover.

That’s how most of the stories in the infirmary went, if Evelyn listened hard enough and if she understood Sokovian. There were variations, falling from the rising city, getting crushed, Ultron sentry shootings. But it was all the same. The loss was there, the tragedy, the destruction.

“What the hell are you doing in this damned country, anyway? You got a man here?” Magda snapped out of the trance in a second, showing gaps in her teeth as she smiled.

Evelyn shook her head, almost matching the old woman’s grin, “No, I don’t have a man.”

The woman snorted in disbelief, “Pretty woman like you got a man. I see look in your eye. You look like you got a man.”

She shook her head again, making herself dizzy, “My friends wanted a vacation and they took me with them. I don’t know, Magda, maybe it’s the oxygen that’s messing with your head.”

The woman threw her head back and cackled again, then muttered something in Sokovian, clearly amused.

Then, the infirmary settled into a hush as if the it couldn’t become more silent apart from Magda’s ramblings. Captain America stood between the sliding glass doors, scanning the beds, eyes settling on Evelyn.

“That is not the man,” Magda shook her head. “Do you know the man Evelyn is here for?” she asked Rogers.

There was a look of confusion in his face, eyebrows knitting together. He was thinking now. “I don’t think so, ma’am.”

“Pity. I’m not too old for good looking men. You not bad yourself,” Magda said, chuckling. She then settled into her bed, drawing the covers around her and quickly fell asleep.

Rogers stopped at the foot of her bed, recovering from the blush that Magda had given him, “How are you, Eve?”

Evelyn tried to smile, only managing a faltering lifting of the corners of her mouth, “I’m great. I’m not really personally connecting with the fake tissue and the vibranium but—”

He stopped her with a hand and a shocked look on his face, “Vibranium?”

Evelyn nodded vigorously, the motion sending small pricks on her left shoulder, “The bullet shattered my clavicle and chipped off a part of my scapula. Cho replaced it with vibranium and that fake tissue she uses.”

That seemed to shake him, and it took a moment for it to settle. Then Rogers smiled, “Airports are going to be a problem.”

He coaxed a laugh out of her, hurting her recovering shoulder in the process.

“Hey, the Team’s asking for you,” he said. Then he dropped his voice, sitting at the free space beside her left hip, “Stark picked up some pizza for the S.H.I.E.L.D. crew, we figured you’d want some.”

She jerked up, the force sending a faint pain on her left shoulder strong enough to surpass the numbness, “Yeah, get me out of here.” Magda had fallen asleep, and the patient on her left wasn’t talkative. Evelyn didn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts.

“Can you walk?” Steve asked as Evelyn swung her legs around the infirmary bed.

“I got shot on the shoulder, Cap, not the knee. This gives me a chance to look for some pants, too,” she quipped as she immediately stood up. A head rush almost blacked her out, but Steve swept in on her right to keep her on her feet.

“Oops,” she said flatly, feeling the pounding of her head and the effects of the pain medication she had been on for the past two hours.

Dr. Cho rushed in from three beds away, like a vulture on prey, “What are you doing? I haven’t cleared you yet. The procedure on your shoulder—”

“Aw, c’mon, doc,” Steve pleaded. “I was just taking her for some pizza out there.”

Evelyn surrendered immediately, taking a seat on the bed, “It’s alright, Cap. My appetite seems to be dysfunctional anyway.”

“Aw, c’mon, Evie,” Steve begged a different person now.

Cho sighed, eyeing the scene of disappointment in front of her. She quickly gave in, “She is to be connected to an IV drip the whole time. Keep her off her feet. Small sips of water and small bites of food. She’s due for her painkillers in two hours. Be back here by then. Understand?”

Steve nodded like a soldier taking commands, but his grin resembled that of a child allowed to buy candy down the street, “Yes, ma’am.”

So, Steve helped Evelyn into a wheelchair, but not before one of the medics in the infirmary outfitted her with a sling. Evelyn held her IV stand on the right as Steve wheeled her past the infirmary beds with recovering Sokovians. Some were surrounded by families with milder injuries, and some were completely alone. But the shadow of grief and death did not discriminate based on who was with you. Everyone in there had lost something. A childhood home, a family, a community, hope.

Evelyn was glad to be taken out of there, but it seemed that she took that feeling of despair with her.

 

Steve told her the city fell while she was fighting the shock of the gunshot. Stark blew the rock apart, and it fell into the lake beside the city. The Stark Relief Foundation and S.H.I.E.L.D. were working with law enforcement to manage the casualties and the destruction in the city. The uninjured citizens on the helicarrier were sent down, and those that were stayed up here, sent back to the ground as soon as they were well. Even with the constant dropping off, the doctors on the helicarrier were still overwhelmed. The recovered dead stayed up here too.

“How’s Wanda?” Evelyn managed to ask, though her voice broken.

Steve maneuvered her past the medics rushing past, Evelyn barely keeping up with her IV stand. He sighed, “She’s okay. I think. She wanted to be alone. She’s—”

They just rounded the corner when they ran into Wanda Maximoff. Her hair was up in a ponytail, accentuating her puffy eyes and red nose. She looked far from okay, but once she saw them, her face changed, as if trying to look braver.

“Evelyn. Your shoulder,” said Wanda, her eyes widening at the sling.

Evelyn nodded, “I was—”

“I know,” Wanda cut her off sharply. She’d seen the quinjet’s fire exploding before them in the sky, Evelyn’s hand held out waiting for it to get close enough, the pale blue blur that could be mistaken for the sky passing by in pocket of space. She didn’t need to look into Evelyn’s head. She had already seen it through Pietro’s eyes.

Wanda quickly took off, but Evelyn painfully reached out with her left hand and grabbed Wanda’s passing one.

“Maximoff,” she said, barely making a sound with her tight throat. Evelyn kept her grip, though the sudden movement of her arm probably ruined her recovery.

Wanda stopped in her tracks.

“Cap, can I have a minute,” Evelyn said, her voice stronger this time.

Steve didn’t wait, “I’ll be down the hall. Just holler.”

And he left them alone in their grief. Evelyn pulled Wanda’s hand so they faced each other.

“I’m sorry about your brother, Wanda,” she mustered the courage to face the victim of her incompetence. “I tried to…” Evelyn’s voice faltered, but looking at Wanda’s eyes just brought up Pietro’s lifeless ones each time she got lost in them. It wasn’t hard to get lost in them, it was getting out that half killed her.

“It’s all my fault, you can blame me, I should’ve—”

“What do you think you’re trying to accomplish with what you are saying?” Wanda cut her off. She wasn’t harsh, there was no cruelty in her voice.

Evelyn looked at her and couldn’t place the emotion on her face.

She shrugged, feeling the numbness and the pain in her left shoulder. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I just don’t want you blaming anyone else for it.”

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows, “Evelyn, do you think you are to blame for Ultron’s actions? For Pietro’s choices?”

That left Evelyn in silence, and it was time for Wanda to grab Evelyn’s hands. The woman knelt in front of her.

“I know what happened, Evelyn, every single time I blink, I see it, and I die a little every time. But I know what happened,” Wanda said, voice barely solid. “I’m not blaming you. Maybe if you stood there for a second longer, you could have done what you intended to do, but you would have died. And Pietro would have blamed himself, and we’d be back in _this_ circle of shit.”

Wanda held Evelyn’s hands tighter, looking down, trying hard not to burst into tears. Evelyn had already shed some for the both of them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Evelyn couldn’t help apologizing again. It was easier to apologize, to absorb the blame, than to face what happened, than to admit that it wasn’t her fault because it was.

“Pietro and I, we did the best we could. He died for it. And he wouldn’t want you blaming yourself anyway. He would want all the credit for saving all your lives,” Wanda mustered a grin.

Evelyn chuckled, but it sounded more like a brief choking. Wanda stood up to leave, but Evelyn held on a little longer.

“Where are you going after this?” she asked.

Wanda shrugged, but she smiled, “Who knows.”

Then Evelyn saw Rogers down the hall, staring at them. “You know, when he works up the nerve, Cap’s going to ask you if you’d want to stay with the Team. Be an Avenger.”

Wanda was silent, looking down at her shoes, her eyes thinking deeply.

“You don’t have to be alone,” Evelyn said quietly.

Wanda gave a small smile and nodded before stepping to the side to walk away. But she didn’t move.

“The man you are helping, the one you are worried for. I think I can help him,” Wanda said quietly.

Evelyn almost choked. Rogers was walking towards her now, but she shook her head vigorously, stopping him in his tracks. He had come so close to the truth at that second.

“So, you did see that?” Evelyn said, so quietly that Wanda strained to hear.

“Everything. And a little more,” Wanda admitted.

Evelyn just gave her a look of confusion.

“I saw your fear, and the reason behind it. You are afraid to hurt that man, but you are the only one that can help him,” she said, her face was dark, as if feeling what Evelyn was when she puts her hands up to Barnes’s head and worked his mind and the things that reverberated back to her.

But Evelyn thought on it. She was trying to fix the physical state of things, but Wanda was on another plane. All those sessions with Bucky scared the shit out of her because they were out of her control. She knew that there was no control over what he would remember and what would snap back at her. It was a chaotic box of chocolates.

But Wanda, she could choose. From the Team’s testimonies, Wanda could definitely choose what comes up in the head. This wasn’t physical.

But Wanda would see it too. What Evelyn saw from James, the trauma, the darkness, the feeling of blood on their hands, Wanda would see it too.

“I can’t,” Evelyn just said after her silence. She couldn’t handle James on it, how could she put Wanda through that too.

“You don’t have to protect me, I’m not afraid. I can handle myself,” Wanda said, confident now.

“I just don’t want that on you,” Evelyn didn’t want that on anyone. “When he’s better, and when it’s easier. Maybe.”

When there was less trauma to sift through.

“And if he agrees,” Evelyn said. She hoped Bucky wouldn’t agree. She hoped Wanda would be far away from everything they felt and will feel.

Wanda recoiled, as if knowing what she was thinking. It was a small movement, but Evelyn noticed. There was anger on the woman’s face, but it was more of that pain of rejection that broke Evelyn.

“I’ll let my supervisor know if he takes the deal,” Evelyn just said quietly.

She nodded and walked away.

“Wanda,” Evelyn called out, and she returned, cautious, as if her walls were up now, ready to get hurt.

“Thank you,” Evelyn said quietly. “You’re going to do a lot of good here.”

She nodded, and walked away for the final time.

Rogers returned, silently pushing the wheelchair.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back?” Stark called out to her as she stared out of the windows of the helicarrier, staring at the big hole in Novi Grad and the chunks of earth displaced in the lake and the rest of the city that survived. The city’s main power grid was destroyed during the rising of the city, so the only lights seen from above were cars on the road and the landing strips that guided the lifeboats from the helicarrier to the ground.

Everyone was sitting on the conference table, sick of the carnage below, but Evelyn had just gotten out of bed and she wanted to stare.

“You could be part of the team again,” Rogers said, his voice reflecting back from the glass in front of her. He said that softly, as if afraid to bring up the idea.

“As enjoyable as that trigger sounds,” Evelyn wanted to say, “Your best friend that you’ve been looking for ages needs help and I’m the only one that could give it right now. Did I forget to tell you about Bucky Barnes and how I figured out how to use Tesseract energy to create a portal to him? That’s right, guys. Your nightmares from New York might not be over. Anyway, I’d love to come back when Bucky’s all better, but I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon.”

That was what Evelyn said in her head, but instead Fury spoke up before she could open her mouth, “Ms. Akari here isn’t near complete with her assignment. But the moment she is, you’ll be the first to hear, Rogers.”

“He better be the first to hear,” Evelyn wanted to say, but she only shrugged and smiled, not wanting to even look at Rogers.

“I’m not sure if I want to go back to that right now. Might be too much…” she said instead, looking at her fidgeting hands, suddenly hyperaware of the eyes on her.

“But you still work for me, don’t you? I haven’t gotten your quitting notice,” Tony poked Evelyn from his seat, just next to her.

“To be honest,” Evelyn slouched, pushing her rolling chair back and forth with a foot, “I don’t know anymore.”

The only thing she knew was that she had to stay in Bucharest and help Barnes. She wanted him okay. More than okay. There was so much more work to be done. And she just couldn’t be here, around them, an echo of the past.

Hill approached the table coming from the helm of the helicarrier, “Akari, wheels up in...” She looked at her watch in fake surprise, “…oh, now.” She left with a scolding eye.

“You heard her, kids,” Evelyn got up from her seat and patted Tony on the shoulder.

She received a variety of goodbyes, ranging from a gently embrace Rogers and a flat “Aw, so soon?” from Clint (“Can’t wait to get away from you, Katniss.”). Fury provided her with a new mobile—since she left her old one along with her pajama bottoms in the runaway quinjet. Then Thor placed his hammer gently on the table, gesturing for her to lift it. Evelyn only turned around after flipping him off.

“I’ve been seeing that too much... I still don’t understand the gesture…” Thor’s voice and the rest of their noise faded away as Evelyn followed Hill deeper into the helicarrier.

Maria Hill pushed her through the interior of the helicarrier, passing S.H.I.E.L.D. agents nodding at them on the way.

“Are you flying me home?” Evelyn asked.

“I don’t trust anyone else to,” said Hill, keeping her brisk pace.

 

The quinjet smoothly settled into the Arena Nationala’s green grass. Evelyn thought that the groundskeepers would have the same headache the quinjet had given them two nights ago, but when Evelyn stepped out, she saw the same landing marks from last time.

“Thanks for the ride, Hill,” Evelyn said before unbuckling herself from the seat. Her legs felt like taking off without hear, eager to get home and check to see if James hadn’t been glued to the television for two days. But she managed to carefully make her way out to the stadium grass as the bay door settled on the ground.

“Evelyn,” Maria Hill called out before she could even get a step into her walk. Hill was standing on the bay door, arms crossed, the lights of the quinjet giving her a nice silhouette.

“Ma’am?” Evelyn said, turning around. She was waiting for the usual reminder of something she had forgotten to complete. Some post-assignment briefing document or other.

But Evelyn saw Hill’s face change, going from her boss to an unexpected close friend. A look of care took over the usual hardness that Evelyn saw. It was the side that Evelyn wanted to see from her. At that second, Evelyn wanted to cry.

Maria smiled sadly, “What you saw today… If you ever need to talk about it, my emergency number’s up for use.”

Hill’s voice was strong, unhesitating, sure of her words.

Evelyn nodded, became more aware of the carnage that she’d seen, the images behind the backs of her eyelids. But the fact that Hill reached out was something that quelled the uneasiness.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Evelyn said, her voice smaller than she wanted it to be.

Hill nodded, smiling small again. “I’m expecting your package in a week,” she said with that usual hardness that Evelyn knew, but there was a touch of sympathy and friendliness that she didn’t.

“Allow for 3-5 business days, ma’am,” Evelyn quipped, a smile grew on her face. She was delighted when Hill gave her a small smile.

Before she knew it, the quinjet was throwing odd smelling air and fresh cut grass in her face, taking off even before the bay door had fully closed. And Evelyn immediately took off, not wanting to be exposed in the stadium any longer, susceptible to security cameras and patrollers.

She was surprised she had the energy to navigate the streets of Bucharest to avoid cameras and eyes, or even just walk all the way home. She hugged her hospital gown over her tac suit, wearing it like a flimsy jacket. Her legs weren’t the usual jelly after assignments, nor did they seem affected by the medication Cho had pumped her full of. They wanted to run. Away. From the edge of the ascending land mass. From each building crumbling before her eyes. From each flashing headlights and lamppost that she mistook for a brief nanosecond as one of Ultron’s sentries with their bright red eyes whizzing by her. From the quiet around her that was sure to break with chaos.

But her feet didn’t run. They kept with the beat as she hummed Four Season’s “Sherry,” just the part that she always heard James humming.

Evelyn didn’t wear the Faraday bracelet the whole way home.


	11. 11. On the Styx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song for the road: Next to Me by Imagine Dragons. Thank you for reading this far. You make me cry.

#### May 9th, 2015 3AM

_Evelyn drank in the wind as the sky swallowed her up. A dark cloud approached, but she’d be alright. The closer she got, the more the cloud pulled apart on itself. Birds? Suddenly, not flying, but falling. The ground grew closer and infinitely farther, and the cloud was upon her. A cloud of metal. Not metal. Ultron sentries. They were whizzing past her and around her. Her feet hit ground. Around her, bodies dropped, familiar and unfamiliar faces. Steve, Nat, Stark, they were here but gone. James was here, but gone. Everything was loud, and quiet, exploding and imploding. Then a sentry was over her, she was knocked down, and she saw the barrel of the energy gun and the infinite blue of it, as if staring deeply into Bucky’s eyes._

She woke with a chill passing through her and a scream in her throat, and the dream fading from her mind by the second. A figure was over her and she almost reacted with a shock until she realized it was just Bucky.

“Scuze _,_ ” Evelyn muttered in Romanian, her voice was raspy. “ _Did I wake you?_ ” she spat out the stuttering sentence.

Bucky smiled at her successful attempt at the language, but quickly sobered up. He shook his head, “Can’t sleep much. When I do, it’s just…”

Evelyn nodded in agreement. It didn’t need to be said. They were both plagued with the trauma they’d seen, and they’d relive it every time they closed their eyes.

“ _Do you want to work?_ ” Bucky asked quietly, almost as if afraid Evelyn would react explosively to any disruption of silence.

She didn’t want to work. The CCS made her anxious. Everything they did with it, it wasn’t all great. But she mustered a small smile and kicked off the covers.

The process that once took 30 minutes to get hooked up now took 10, and the electrodes on Bucky’s head, the filament thin pads on Evelyn’s hands, the light replica of Bucky Barnes’s brain were up and running.

“Ready?” she had to ask. Maybe knowing that he was ready could make her ready too.

He drilled his fingers on the sides of the CCS on his lap, and nodded, his hair ruffing up against the arm of the couch he laid on.

They both took a breath at the same time, and Evelyn started.

It happened like it always did. There’d be nothing for a while, just more flowing and darkening of lines into the light replica in front of them, the connectome getting slightly hair-thin thicker each movement then returning back to normal. It put Evelyn on edge. She wasn’t sure when things would happen, or what movements and electric sequences she did that would make things happen. But it was always a matter of time. It would always happen.

This time, they were five minutes into the job, and Evelyn was mirroring the smell of smoke and the sound of clinking metal from her to Bucky.

This time it was the extension of a switch blade, swinging of a balisong, unsheathing of a kitchen knife from its rack. And the descent of them. The strategic places of the swings, the warmth of blood, the survival struggle, the feeling of the flesh giving way to metal, the metal, that’s what he said. Everything left in this world will be metal. There were arm blocks, but there were hand switches, knives flying from one hand to the other, and Steve. Steve was there, a knife flying at him. They wielded it.

His face hovering over them, checking for a pulse, pulling them up, carrying them to the edge of the earth. There was blood all over, and the pain. The bullets spraying, hand outstretched, trying to knock the jet out of the sky. But the bullets kept spraying, Evelyn, and there was screaming, and falling, and crumbling buildings, and the electric blue of their eyes, all over, and their hands that shot fire. And the blur of blue, the ground, and blank eyes staring at nothing. Then the blood again and the shooting pain. And Barton and Steve picking her up. Then Steve was gone.

Then gasps of surprise as the knives stayed in and the blood leaked out, or the screams, the screams, they were everywhere, Evelyn, especially after the rise of the city, the buildings falling, metal everywhere, flying, falling. Steve fell. And they did too.

“Evelyn,” the voice finally pulled her out.

Evelyn retracted her hands and felt the floor under her. And she laid there, seeing the last of the buzzing lights before they returned to normal before shutting her eyes, arms over her face.

The CCS brain replica was flowering its light, the remainder of his memories, and hers, running their course. Neither of them moved.

There was so many of them. So many dead. For both of them. From both of them. From what they could and couldn’t do. And they couldn’t take it back.

“What was that?” Bucky broke the still silence, forcing her to crack her eyes open.

“Buildings falling. Steve carrying you,” he described the memories as he put the CCS on the floor and faced her with his legs crossed on the couch. “What was it?” He asked, but she was sure he knew. Where else did cities fly?

 _Shit._ “Are you sure that wasn’t yours?” Evelyn had to ask, some of what she saw was unfamiliar, but enough was. She tried to read his face for lies. What lies she was looking for, she didn’t know. She should be looking at her own.

He always took the brunt of the memories, and what she got on her end was nothing compared to his serving. But this was different. This time, she gave stuff back. It was a two-way channel now. _Shit._ Evelyn shut her eyes, and tried to sort everything out. She couldn’t put her shit on him. Not with the long way he has to go. It’ll only make it worse.

She didn’t notice her heavy breathing, or her shaking hands, or the light surge of power in the building she was making.

Bucky placed a hand on his left shoulder, drawing a line on his shirt where flesh meshed with metal. “Some of it was. From D.C., but I’ve never been shot here.”

“Shit,” that was hers, suddenly being aware of her left shoulder and how different it felt.

“Evelyn…” he tried to coax her out.

She stood from the floor and gingerly grabbed the Faraday bracelet from her pocket. Once she cuffed herself, the CCS light show turned off immediately at the missing component for activation.

“Sorry,” she only said, and sat back down on her chair.

Bucky was looking at her, eyebrows furrowed, curious.

_Shit._

“How much of that did you see?” she managed to speak

“Enough,” he said. “Getting shot, the buildings, screaming. And Steve. He pulled you out.”

She put her head in her hands. “Sokovia.” Evelyn laughed, racking her chest. She leaned back, and closed her eyes. “You shouldn’t have seen that.” She said it like she could control it.

“Well, I did. Do you want to talk about it?” He was soft. Like she was whenever they did this. It was his turn.

But she refused, shaking her head. “It’s not about me. What did you see?” She grabbed the pad of paper by his head. Ready to write, but most of the time, she didn’t.

“Evelyn,” he pushed.

“Do you know those people?” Evelyn poised her pencil, cutting him off. She didn’t want to think about anything. She just wanted to finish this.

Bucky sighed before breathing deeply. She guessed he needed things to settle, too.

“Steve,” he said, pain in his voice. The easiest face to place. “I’m not sure about the rest. Or when.”

“Okay,” she sighed. That’s as far as those were going to get. “Did you get a good look at them?” Her thoughts were racing, listing tasks, contacts to get in touch with, everything but thinking about what she just saw.

“Just the switch blade. It’s blurry, but…”

“It’s always blurry. Just tell me what you can,” Evelyn said, poised to write everything she hadn’t seen.

“It was night time. Some kind of backroad, forest, I’m not sure,” his eyes were closed in concentration. “The guy looked like a cop, I think, wearing a navy blue polo, put up a fight. Just like the guy from Ndola.”

Bucky stopped, opening his eyes and sighing deeply. “I don't think he was the target.” Then he put his hands over his face, massaging pressure points everywhere.

What he said wasn’t much. Most of the time, nothing was much. “We’ll try to cross reference it to your journals. Something will come up,” she reassured him, but she felt frustrated too. What good were any of these memories when most of them were in incoherent fragments.

But she had to push. Fragments were better than nothing. “Anything else?”

Bucky kept still, like he would disrupt his memory if he made any small movement. “I took his bike. And his gun. I think I used it…”

There was a moment of silence between them. Evelyn knew he was thinking about the different ways he had used any gun, any weapon on anyone. That was a rabbit hole.

“We should stop,” she suggested, but got up to pack everything up. “You need to sleep on this.”

Bucky caught her by the arm before she could get any closer to the CCS, sending the usual electric shocks he sent.

“No,” he said. “Please,” quickly inserting it to soften the gravity of his decision. “We should go over it.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded hesitatingly, slowly. He didn’t want to go over it, but they had to.

“I need to know,” he pursed his lips. The guilt was there, it was always there. But she didn’t dare move, afraid to break the delicacy that settled over them.

Evelyn nodded, “Okay.” She shifted her arm so that she clasped his wrist too. Then her heart beat too fast and her adrenal glands were firing, so she pulled her hand away. She grabbed the gloves from the floor and put them on.

“I’m sorry for the stuff you’re seeing. I’ll talk to Fitz-Simmons about preventing a backflow,” she said, pulling herself out of the stillness of the situation.

“I think it helps,” he said interjected.

“What does?”

“Me seeing you. Knowing you’re there with me, seeing everything. I don’t feel so alone,” He gave that smile that looked like he was trying to push past a sadness.

“I’ll be here,” Evelyn said quietly. Sokovia will be there, even if she didn’t want it to be. Even if it was the worst time to come up. If it helped him, then she’d suffer through it. But Evelyn only kept that to herself as she got the CCS hooked up again.

In a few moments, they were poised to go back to work. Evelyn shut her eyes, preparing herself, _focus, focus, focus,_ push Sokovia back, no one needed to see that.

“Evie?” Bucky said softly. She almost didn't hear it over her panic.

“Sorry. Are you ready?”

“Are _you_?” he sat up and turned to look at her. “We can talk about Sokov—”

“I’m okay. It’s not about me,” she said, giving a small smile. “Think about the road. And everything.”

“Can I say something, at least?”

“Bucky, please,” she pleaded. Not now. Please.

He didn’t relent, sitting up from the couch to look at her. “I know what trauma looks like. And I know what it feels like to keep it in. You need to talk to someone. Even if it’s not me, just talk about it, okay?”

Bucky looked over her face for any emotion, but her heart was beating too fast from looking at him too long and feeling to afraid to let the horrors spill out of her mouth. So, she only nodded.

He gave her a reassuring smile before laying back down on the couch with his head towards her.

“Okay,” his eyebrows twitched for a moment in concern, but he laid back down and regulated his breathing. “I’m doing it.”

Evelyn closed her eyes, and pushed everything to the back of her mind.

“CCS track activity,” she told the machine and saw the blinking red light at the edge of the projection that indicated it was recording. Then she followed Bucky’s neuronal activity, reinforcing it, repeating it, letting his mind do the work, following its distractions.

 _It’s not trauma,_ her mind wandered. _It’s not trauma if she didn’t allow it to be,_ she thought.

They saw the switchblade again after a couple minutes. The switchblade and the blood and the fight for life. Pietro’s fight for life.

_That’s not how trauma works. You can’t control it._

Then as quickly as she saw the stab wounds and the bullet wounds, it was over, and they were on the motorcycle, waiting. There was a small gun in their hands, then they were under the night sky, aiming, then hitting the target. An Ultron sentry.

_It’ll consume you if you let it._

Shit. No, a car. The mission. Save Sokovia. No, interception and retrieval. The crash. A flash of a manila folder. Long Island. Pentagon. Interception.

Mission report, Dec—

A dark alcove, the smell of cold metal, the pain—

Otchet M—

The dying voices. A woman’s pained call. The crash of the car. The hits. The tight choke. The quick escape back to—

Отчет миссии Декабрь 16, 1991

And the man in the lab coat with the glasses that smelled like burnt hair—

Evelyn pulled herself out of the memory at the panic. At the of the complete change in thought process. Of the drop in brain activity. Of Bucky’s tightening muscles, the rapid heart rate, his panic.

Before she could think, the air shifted, and his fist was flying at her face. She fell back from her chair from dodging, immediately rolling on her feet.

_Shit._

They stared at each other for a second, both taking in the situation.

“Your programming, isn’t it?” she said out loud.

There was a twitch of a frown on the Winter Soldier’s mouth, and that was a sign for Evelyn to move. She made her way to the other side of the room, leaping over the table, towards the sink. Before she could reach the cupboard, a hand went to the back of her neck and threw her on the floor.

The Soldier was over her, face blank except the eyes. They were hard and frenzied. Not the soft blue she knew, but just vacant and mad. She was afraid, but she didn’t dare scream.

There was a moment of hesitation between them as they looked at each other. He seemed confused. She was tensed, trying to guess what he’d do next.

“Barnes?” she said with a whisper that seemed to shatter glass.

That only seemed to anger him as he pulled a fist back. She rolled away before he could land it on her, the floorboard breaking under his fist. She rolled back and grabbed him by the shoulders, kicking him over her with both of her feet. He landed above her head, back on the floor, and the patio door shattering as his feet crashed through them.

“Fuck,” she muttered, getting up, quickly scrambling to the kitchen sink. She yanked the cupboard door open and took out the gun and the magazine beside it.

She heard the glass tinkling as he collected himself.

 _Why wasn’t it already loaded?_ She thought angrily to herself, her fingers fumbling for a moment to insert the magazine into the grip.

“Shit,” she muttered as the mag wouldn’t snap closed. “FUCK!” she screamed as she ejected the mag and inserted in the right way. Then a hand, his hand, grabbed her ankle, making her yelp in panic.

“Shit,” she said again as he pulled her towards him, stomach sweeping the floor. She flipped on her back as best as she could against his grip on her foot, cocked the gun, aimed, and shot just as he was about to grab her.

Two quiet shots rang out, and only one small tranquilizer dart landed. Right over the heart.

But he kept moving, making to grab her. She scrambled back as quick as she could, hoping the sedative would fucking kick in already. His metal arm reached her, giving a tight grip on her arm, lifting her up, and the other hand securing a hand on her neck.

Before her vision could blur, his movements slowed, and she almost laughed.

His legs went slack, grip on her weakening, and his eyes rolled back into his head. And she was there as he dropped, catching him under his arms.

“Fuck HYDRA, fuck the Russians,” she groaned as his weight pulled her down.

She eased him to the floor, then quickly got back on her feet. She quickly gathered the CCS, stripping the gloves off her hands and yanking the electrode cap from his head. She just finished stowing the case under the bed when a pounding came on her door.

“Evelyn! Este totul în regulă?” a familiar voice said through the door. It was Orsi, the old lady living right beside her called out.

“Da!” she said, making her way to the door. When she opened, the poor old lady was half asleep and in her sleeping clothes.

“J— _Marcu was really drunk, fell through the patio door,_ ” she mumbled in Romanian, almost slipping his real name. She moved in Orsi’s way so she couldn’t see the carnage. Evelyn hadn’t covered him up. The old lady could have seen the shot on him, or worse, his bare metal arm.

Evelyn smiled as best as she could to satisfy the old woman.

Then a man in his pajamas came down the stairs, asking the same question as little old Orsi, rubbing his eyes in irritation. How dare they wake him from his sleep?

Evelyn repeated, “ _Marcu—_ ”

“ _Marcu got foolishly drunk and broke some glass like an idiot. Go back to sleep Dorin,_ ” Orsi said, waving the man away aggressively, just as irritated as he was. The man groaned, annoyed, and started back up the stairs.

Before Evelyn could shut the door, Orsi kept the door open. “Are you okay, Evelyn? Did he hit you?” she said with a thick Romanian accent.

Evelyn smiled and shook her head, “ _He’s not that type of drunk. He just falls everywhere_.”

Orsi nodded, suspicious, but relented. “If something happens, you can stay with my daughter Rahova. If you need to escape.”

Evelyn took the lady’s hand, “I promise, I’m okay, Orsi. Thank you.”

The old lady nodded, satisfied with that answer, and shuffled back to her apartment door. Evelyn quickly shut hers and paced to Bucky, still knocked out on the floor. She checked him for any injuries and irregularities. Aside from a few cuts on his legs and his hand, he was surprisingly fine.

_I can’t do this._

She dragged him back to the couch, doing her best to lift him up and bring him to his initial position before everything happened. Then Evelyn cleaned up his cuts and bandaging them.

She did her best to check if his arm was in good condition. She’d have to cop some tools from the university's engineering department tomorrow.

_I couldn’t from the start._

Then she took out the CCS, put the electrode cap back on and let it record his brain activity. She’d have to check the log and the progression of his brain activity tomorrow.

She swept up the glass with a broom, finding the last of the tranquilizer darts, and duct taped the curtain in an attempt to patch the break. She found the heavy duty cuffs she hid in the closet and locked them around Bucky’s wrists. Then she took the blankets from the bed and covered him up. The spring wind was starting to pick up. She’d have to tell the landlord about the door tomorrow.

_S.H.I.E.L.D., Joanna, Pietro, all those Sokovians. Now Bucky._

But for now, she sat on the other side of the apartment, hugging her knees to her chest, watching the blue rivers of his brain flow in the CCS projection from a distance, watching delta waves pass by, pulling electricity from the nearby building and stopping his bioelectric activity from reaching his metal arm whenever he twitched in his sleep. She would occasionally blink away the salt in her eyes and breathe away the sobs and the overwhelming fear that wracked her chest.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was bright in Evelyn’s eyes and sirens from the streets were sharp in her ears. Quickly remembering where she was, she jolted to her feet. She tried pulling electricity from the nearby building, only to find she was already charged and crackling. Had she been like this all night?

Then she laid her eyes on Bucky, or at least, where he was supposed to be. The empty couch put her at a panic, and the police sirens that came on outside didn’t help. Evelyn slid the glass door open, leaping over the broken glass she forgot she swept up last night, then caught herself on the railings from the recovery. She searched the streets for any panic and mayhem that _he_ might have brought. Only, the police car turned the corner and disappeared, taking the panic she had with it, and leaving the street to its usual chaotic peacefulness.

Evelyn’s panic came upon the realization that just because there wasn’t any trouble outside, doesn’t mean there won’t be any trouble. She swept back inside, leaping over the broken glass that wasn’t there anymore, and slid the door shut.

The odd thing was that there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary apart from the hole in the floor and the curtain that patched the broken glass door. The CCS electrode cap was carefully arranged on top of the neatly folded blankets on the couch, and the handcuffs were placed on top of the closed CCS case.

The handcuffs.

Evelyn rushed to them, but her feet were ginger over the floor, expecting the broken glass to have reached everywhere. Only one of the cuffs were here, and it was broken in two places.

 _Shit_.

For a moment, she was frozen. There were too many things to do about this, but the loudest thing she could feel was the building panic. Is he okay, is he okay, is he okay. Her thoughts were racing, from reporting this to Hill, monitoring police activity, poring over his escape routes and safehouses in the city, but it always went back to whether he was okay or not. Fuck.

She sat on the floor for a moment, fighting the tears that had not been shed the night before, and tried to concentrate. Fuck. _I fucked up. I fucked up. Again, and again and again._

There was no redemption. She lost him, and she couldn’t help him. She’d have to go back and pretend nothing happened. She’d have to go back to seeing Steve and pretend that she didn’t come close to bringing back the only person that could ever understand him. She had to go back and pretend that she wasn’t a failure. And she had to go back, return to the normal before this normal, and pretend that this was only an assignment. And pretend that there was nothing here.

Fuck that.

Evelyn got off the floor and wiped off the wet on her face. Her teeth were aching from clenching them too long. She rushed to the CCS and checked its tracking activity. The electrode cap stopped tracking at 10:47. It was 11:11 now. It hadn’t been that long. He can’t have gone too far.

Then she went over his escape routes again, estimating his distance at each route in 25 minutes. Evelyn rushed to her phone and dialed the number for the D&D place ten blocks south. She threw some pants and shoes on, wrapped a scarf around her bruised neck, and took the closest jacket within her reach. When the D&D place said they hadn’t seen Bucky today, she was out the door strapped with her go bag. She had the key to his apartment in her hand tingling with blue from the electricity she held as she dialed the next number in Bucky’s possible 25-minute checkpoint. The line to the dive bar ten blocks west was ringing when she got the door opened, and the voice of the bartender on shift had faded to nothing when she saw him sitting on his couch, staring at the wall like it was a window, a journal on his lap, and a pencil loose on his right hand. The other half of the cuff was still tight on his metal wrist.

Evelyn hung up the phone as she tried to settle her breaths. He finally looked at her with tired and puffy eyes, and she had to ignore the flip in her stomach. He looked like he had been awake for hours.

Evelyn tread lightly on the floor, afraid of crunching the broken glass that wasn’t there. She felt a breeze that came from the closed windows, resisting the need to hold her jacket closer to her.

“Bucky,” she said quietly, ready to shock him into unconsciousness.

He closed his eyes, sighing, the corners of his mouth and nose twitching, all on the edge of stepping out of his expressionless mask. He looked away from her now, looking back at the wall with the window that wasn’t there.

“What did I do?” said Bucky, his voice rough and choppy, and not just from hours of disuse.

Evelyn couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know how to respond. Her breaths felt as irregular as they felt before she fell asleep. But she was glad for the wave of relief she felt. She was almost ecstatic for it.

He breathed deeply again, and his eyes were shut hard, “Your glass door’s broken. There’s was a hole in the floor, and I couldn’t feel my arm for an hour.” His voice was on the verge of breaking.

“I…” was all Evelyn could say before he opened his eyes and stared daggers at her.

Evelyn stepped back reflexively but resisted the urge to put her hands up in front of her.

Bucky didn’t move any more. He just stared at her, his eyes soft now, and filled with deep and old emotion that Evelyn couldn’t begin to comprehend.

“Evelyn, I lived 70 years without knowing what I did. I’d like to start knowing,” he said, his voice as soft as his eyes, and just as sad.

 _70 years_. _Don’t make it 70 years and 8 minutes._

Evelyn took off her backpack, pulled a chair from under his dining table, and sat beside the couch as if they were about to work on his memory. Then she told him everything, starting with the change in brain language before everything else happened, and ending with Orsi coming in to check on them.

She didn’t tell him about her. About the wave and fluctuation of emotions in those eight minutes. And how it all somehow went back to Sokovia and Pietro and _her_. He didn’t need that.

When she finished, Bucky shut his journal and placed it on the table in front of him, then went back to looking at the wall as if it were a window with sights to see through it.

“If you want to stop, we can,” Evelyn finally said after a minute of watching him watch nothing. She got up off her seat and made her way to his side.

Bucky flinched, not wanting to touch her, and she almost flinched, too, as if the Winter Soldier was back and ready. But she laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” It was cold to the touch, the breaks and gaps in the metal that would’ve been sharp if she wasn’t used to it.

“If you want to me to go, I will,” she’ll go back and pretend, if he wanted to. She’ll hate it, but she will.

She procured the key to the handcuffs from the small pocket in her pajamas and unlocked his wrist.

“If you don’t want me trying to find you, then I won’t. And I’ll stop any one else from trying to,” she said, sitting further into the couch, hugging her knees, feeling the space she left between them.

Neither of them said anything, neither of them moved for a while. Just letting their breaths sync and the building tightness in their chests release.

“I remember more,” Bucky broke the silence.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Evelyn said. She knew the pain it would bring, reliving every single sin they made him commit.

“I want to.”

And with a nod from her, he began.

He told her about that night in that dirt road with the motorcycle. The yellow car, the briefcase in the back, and the passengers. Some old couple.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to tell her something.

Then he continued, talked about the packed punches, the sound of the man’s skull cracking against the side of the car, the way the woman still fought. Then the shots at the camera.

Then there was a quick relieving tangent, and Bucky told her about the smell of the city, _his_ city, in the heat in the summers, in the crack of the thunderstorms, in the downpour, in that time the dump truck tipped over and the street smelled like garbage more than usual.

And there were the people. The neighbor across the hall with the screaming baby. The baby’s mother that gave him Tootsie pop every time she saw him. And Mom. Her embraces. Her earliest and her last and each in between. The way she scolded him when he was out too late, and how she knew he was out late by the way he smelled like the air outside. And Dad. And his cigars. And his wheezing laughs paired with Mom’s deep and hearty. Maybe it was the other way around. He wasn’t sure, he can’t remember.

 And little Rebecca. Beck. Becky. B. Her tears, the fake ones. Dramatic, from 2 second tantrums, filled with dreams of being in a moving picture. And the real ones, from scraping her knee on the sidewalk, from watching some boys bully a pigeon, from being too slow to catch up to him running up the fire escape. She beat him up to the roof once. Maybe more times. He can’t remember.

And Steve. His restrained laugh, and restrained smile. Their days sitting at the edge of the harbor, sometimes with ice cream, sometimes not. And his fights. His unwavering misses of fists, rising even after he had crumpled to the ground from too many hits. And the punches Bucky took and the punches he threw for Steve. Steve always getting mad over Bucky taking and throwing punches for him. Then they would laugh together. They’d always laugh. That’s what he remembered most.

“Evelyn.” The small smile that formed on Bucky’s lips quickly disappeared, and the glitter in his eyes had dulled when he took his eyes away from the wall that was a window. He watched his hands wring, tracing the lines of his metal joints, then that of his flesh.

“Yeah?” Evelyn’s voice broke herself from the trance he put her in, and she felt the heaviness in her chest. And this time, it wasn’t just hers.

His hands kept wringing, “The next time I… If I get like that again… You…I need you to take me out.”

“What?” The heaviness in her chest was too empty now. Why was it familiar?

Bucky’s hands were still running over themselves, “With your powers. You need to—”

She made a choking sound, “I’m not killing you, if that’s what you’re talking about.”

“No, no, that’s not what…” he sighed in exasperation, shutting his eyes. His hands knitted together, gripping each other tightly, stopping themselves from shaking. “I want to keep doing this, what we’re doing, but I can’t hurt you again.”

She didn’t want to hurt him at all. “You didn’t—”

He made a choking sound and looked up from his hands, eyes on fire, “C’mon Evelyn, I’m not blind. There are marks on your neck and both your ankles are bruised. I could’ve done a lot worse. I could’ve—” He cut himself off, but she knew.

What else could she say? He missed killing her by a hair. Too many things could’ve happened.

“What do you need me to do?” Evelyn broke the silence with the most fragile voice she’d ever heard come out of her mouth.

“I know it’s against your code, but you need to knock me unconscious. Just pull my energy. Okay?”

She was left speechless by that request. Such a simple thing to be said, but such a mountain to climb in a split second.

“I need you to promise me,” Bucky moved, facing her, knees touching her leg, eyes boring on the side of her face. She couldn’t look at him now. It was hard to look at the desperation filled eyes that were desperate to be filled with something else. That were desperate for her to help fill them with something else besides the ghosts of the past. Besides the failure she had given him.

She felt him look down, and that was when she looked, ignoring the swell of emotion in her belly and her veins and her heart that made her face feel hot.

“I don’t want to lose those memories,” he said, softly. His voice was broken now, and his hands were clenched to keep them from shaking.

That was when she knew.

She turned to him and put her hands over his, stilling them, “You’re not going to. You got me. I’m here.”

Evelyn’s voice was shaking, but she steeled herself for her promises, “I’ll remind you every day about what you just told me. And everything you’ll tell me the next time.”

Bucky tightened his hold on her hands, and the tears welling in his eyes finally fell. She embraced him as best she could, tucking him into her arms, pulling him so close that she could feel the ragged breaths under his crying and his racing heart.

“And when the wrong side of you gets switched on, I promise to bring you back. I promise to bring everything the Russians took from you back. I promise you that,” her voice was strong now, she could feel a rush she’d never felt before to power through every doubt in her mind.

And in her mind, she said to him, and promised to herself, _I’ll die before I fail you._


	12. 12. Old Phone

#### June 19th, 2016

The loudest incomprehensible sounds broke the sleeping silence in the room, and Evelyn’s eyes refused to crack open to accommodate the brighter darkness poring through the windows. Bucky was stirring up an ocean in the bed as he responded to the potential threat, and Evelyn roused herself reflexively. She felt his metal arm move off her as she sat up on the bed.

As quick as the year had gone by, so had their growing comfortability with each other. She had found solace from the nightmares she still denied she had in his arms, and she liked holding him in hers. It was easy to find comfort in each other the more they spent time under the CCS together, letting the events they never experienced together weave into a shared fabric of memory.

“Bucky?” she croaked with her voice recovering from the sweet dreamless sleep she had.

But the shadow of that night his programming was awakened still loomed over them. They treated each other gingerly. She sometimes walked on glass around him, ready to pull electricity and shock him. But she learned the difference between Bucky and her encounter with the Winter Soldier. The former was slow to move, evaluating each threat as if it weren’t there, steady movement with purpose. His touch was soft, when they danced around the apartment, when he moved her on the sidewalk so that he would walk closer to the street, when he would try and play out the song he was learning on the cheap keyboard, and in those few times he reached for her hand and it until it was impossible to hold on any longer. The latter was brutally quick, moved to subdue, and he left bruises when he didn’t draw blood. And it was in the eyes. There were the eyes she loved to see, pained to see in pain. And there were the ones that had nothing in them but an objective.

“I’m okay,” he said, his voice was gentle, settling the tightness in her stomach. “It’s your phone,” he said, and she heard the smile in his voice. He pulled the blankets fiercely so that the cold air of the room slapped Evelyn in her pajamas.

Evelyn listened closely this time; the looping of the Game of Thrones main theme was an identified nuisance to their ears. She clambered on top of him to reach for her phone on the other side of the bed. Tony Stark had his own ringtone.

“Will this be a conference call with the gang because I can go back to my apartment if you’re going to be screaming at each other,” Bucky tried to lighten the mood, but Evelyn was already off the bed and in a mood. As if another world ending crisis was going to happen. Why else would Stark call? It was nobody's birthday that she knew of.

Evelyn took off running to the other side of the apartment, close to the door, with the still-blaring phone in her hand. Then she answered the call, still carefully picking her way through strewn shoes near the door.

“You’re fucking kidding me, it’s like 2 in the morning here. I don’t even know what time it is, that’s how half asleep I am,” Evelyn whispered to the phone, not helping the playful tone she put on with Stark. Despite being the harbinger of bad news, she was excited to talk to him.

“It’s 1:28!” Bucky called across the apartment, voice raw from sleep.

“It’s 1:28,” Evelyn repeated.

“Shut up for a second, Evie,” Tony said, and Evelyn could almost hear his smirk through the phone. “Do you have a man in your apartment? Do you need _the talk_? Because it sounds like you need the talk.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the concept of Stark finding out about the Bucky, but her face flushed at the sudden fatherly role he took on.

“Oh, my god, just—What do you want?” she said, leaning against the wall, blood rushing in her ears, watching Bucky toss and turn on the bed.

“You need to lay low a little bit with your powers—”

“What?” Evelyn said a little too loudly, perking herself and Bucky up. She had forgotten about the secrecy of the man in her bed and entered the new problem Tony had presented her.

“Evie, shut up, this is an international call, your interruptions are not so sudden, it’s a little harder to talk to you,” Tony snapped.

“Okay, I’m listening,” Evelyn said gently now, leaning against the wall. Bucky mirrored her relaxation, throwing a blanket over his head.

“There’s going to be a new registry soon,” Tony said gravely.

She snorted, “You and Pep finally getting married?”

He was quiet at that, not presenting the excitement an engaged man would have. “No. A registry for superpowers. Enhanced. _You._ ”

There was a silence, one of confusion and creeping fear.

“And the Avengers, we’d have to be regulated by the UN. We’d have to agree to this regulation or we’re finished,” he finished his thought.

Evelyn was suddenly very aware of all electrical activity in the apartment complex, scared that she would absorb all of that. She was suddenly very aware of her abilities and how she could easily lose control over it if she tried.

“You can’t—” Evelyn burst out, then stopped herself. She continued with a whisper, “You can’t let them do that, Tony. That’s just going to make everything worse.”

Tony sighed, sounding more exasperated through the phone, “I can’t debate this twice in a day.”

“There’s debate over it? You’re not telling me that you’re for this?” Evelyn whispered with intensity now.

“Jesus,” Tony muttered. “That wasn’t the point of this call, Evie.”

“So, you _do_ support this? You want all Enhanced to register? Doesn’t this sound a little bit like Hitler to you?” Evelyn interrupted one more time.

“Damn it, Evie, listen,” Tony was almost angry. “I’m telling you to lay low for a little bit. I’m telling you not to worry, everything will be fine. Whatever scary stuff you hear on the news, everything will be fine.”

“Jesus, Stark,” Evelyn sighed. She put her back against the wall, letting the coolness counter the anger building up in her.

“Please, Evie, don’t make me worry about you,” Tony said, all concerned now. “If you start doing crazy shit now, there will be so much tension between us and the Romanian government that you might die in prison.”

Evelyn was left silent, afraid of a cell. What would they do to her?

“Shit,” Tony broke the silence between them. “Not to scare you, but totally to scare you. Just be careful, okay? I don’t know how Romania feels about these Accords—”

“Accords?” Evelyn interrupted.

“Yeah, Sokovia Accords,” he said, almost crestfallen. “The UN’s signing it in Vienna in a couple of days. Look, Evie, I’m just saying. Be careful, please. If— _when_ this passes, it’s going to take too much paperwork to get you back home, or to use your powers, really. Just do what the government says, show them your paperwork, and I’ll pull some strings back here to make it easier.”

“Are you telling me to be careful, or trying to convince yourself that this is a bad thing?” Evelyn snapped.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Tony said, commanding.

Evelyn was silent again, thinking of being arrested, documented as a threat to Romania and the world. Shit. “This is scary,” she admitted to Tony quietly, the words barely making it out of her throat without squeaking.

“Everything will be okay, I promise,” he said quietly to her.

“I thought I was doing the promising?” she smiled now, anger dissipating.

“Do it, before the door closes,” Tony laughed, then silence, waiting for her.

“I promise I’ll be careful,” she sighed, like a teenager in vacation, away from her parents.

“Okay, then, Spark Plug. Talk to you soon,” he said, Evelyn hearing his smile.

“Wait, wait, you can’t just not call me for weeks and then throw this mess on me,” Evelyn screamed at the phone now, grinning. “How’s Pepper? And the Team? No one’s called since Lagos, and we—I’m getting a little worried”

Tony sighed, “Yeah, everyone’s okay. Maximoff’s still a little shaken up about Lagos. She thinks it’s her fault.” His voice decreased to a mutter towards the end.

“God, I’d call, but the rules…” Evelyn said. There was a slight ache in her chest now, but she could only say “Just… tell everyone I said hi. Give Ms. Potts a kiss for me.”

“Uh, yeah, will do,” Tony coughed. “How’s the mission? The mysterious target you’re following, and no one will tell me about.”

Evelyn half choked at the subject change, “The usual. Blasts real loud opera sometimes. Complete disregard for the neighbors. Likes to howl at the full moon, sacrifices goats every two weeks. The usual.” She tried to let her voice not bleed a lie. She got hurt, but she didn’t want to be pulled.

“That doesn’t interfere with your sacrifices, right? Too much sacrifices in a space of time kind of gets the gods angry,” Tony said.

Evelyn was laughing now, her heart almost back in its place, “I stopped sacrificing a long time ago, Stark. I’m all about summoning rituals now, though.”

“Say hi to the devil for me,” he laughed back.

“Will do,” she grinned. “Do you want me to come home? You said the Accords are going to make it hard to go back—”

“No, everything will be okay, Evie. Just stay put. Alright kid, I got gotta go. Talk to you soon. Stay safe, wear condoms.”

Before Evelyn could retort at that, the line went dead. She knew soon meant more weeks, unless the Accords blew up, then he’d be asking her to try to come home really soon, get started on the months of paperwork. Maybe she’d get forced a citizenship here, and she’d never set foot on America again.

Shit.

Evelyn’s still cold feet padded across the cold floor, placing her phone on the dinner table. Then she jumped into bed, yanking the blanket off of Bucky, hogging it for herself with a giggle.

“God damn it, Evie,” Bucky said, trying to pull the blanket back.

Evelyn wrapped it around herself, making it more difficult to retrieve. After a few more minutes of sluggish struggling, Bucky gave up, and lay still, a cold space between them.

“Everything okay?” he muttered in the silence, half asleep still. His back was to her so she could barely detect the concern in his voice. “With them over there?” He moved closer to her, his arm touching her back.

He still avoided placing names, distancing himself from them. From Steve.

 “Yeah, just some paperwork problems. Everything will be okay,” Evelyn repeated Tony’s words, the mood turning dark. “Might tell you about it in the morning, might not.” Sleep was the only relief for now, and she wanted it.

When he didn’t respond, Evelyn quickly said, “Nothing happened. No one’s hurt. He’s fine.”

No one had called until now, and she was glad to give him this piece of news.

Bucky just chuckled, relieved, “’Night.” He draped his arm over her, elbow resting on her side, hand on her hip. Then he was completely still.

Evelyn drifted off to sleep with the thought of the Accords. She would be branded, tagged, probably marked dangerous. She might never set foot outside of the borders of this country. Even if Tony pulled strings like he said, she wouldn’t be diplomatically immune. She would be in control of whatever government she was living under.

She didn’t know what these Accords meant for her. What would it mean for Bucky? He was far from recovered. How far would she be from him? There was no way in hell she’d be able to see him again. In the last few minutes before she fell asleep, Evelyn was more afraid than she has been in a while.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was like a dream, that ringing. An echo of the recent past. Only, Evelyn felt herself being shaken awake, and Bucky’s face appeared in her struggling vision.

“It’s Steve,” he said, softly, trying not to jar her, but urgent, considering the caller ID.

Before Evelyn could comprehend his words, she felt the phone in her hand, then next to her ear, then Steve talking to her.

“Evelyn?” Steve began on the other line.

“Steve,” she said matter-of-factly, identifying him, trying to shake herself out of her half-asleep state. But she could hear the tone in his voice. He almost sounded like Bucky. “Is something wrong?”

“It sounds like I woke you,” Steve said. She could hear his attempt at a smile, but the heaviness in his voice was easier to detect. “I could call—”

Evelyn sat up, and she felt Bucky sit up beside her, “No, Steve, its okay. I’ve been up for hours.”

“Are you sure?” Steve said.

She grabbed the headphones on the nightstand, plugged it in the jack, and offered half to Bucky. “Yeah, give me a minute, though.”

Bucky hesitated, staring at the earbud.

“C’mon,” Evelyn whispered. She could see he wanted to take it, he wanted to be part of Steve’s life as he once was, as Evelyn is now.

But Bucky shook his head, “Just tell me about it later,” and wrapped the blanket around himself. She felt his hand creep under the blanket and find hers. His grip wasn’t tight, just soft, caressing, a simple touch was grounding enough.

Evelyn placed just one earbud in her ear, leaving the other free for him to pick up.

“Steve, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” his voice was still heavy.

“What’s wrong?”

“Peggy’s gone,” he got straight to it. His voice dropped to a whisper, and Evelyn could hear his shaking breaths.

“Oh, Steve,” Evelyn’s chest felt empty for him. “I’m so sorry.”

She felt Bucky’s fingers tighten around hers.

“Don’t be, it’s no one’s fault,” he said. He told her how she passed in her sleep. It was peaceful. “I wish I could blame someone for it, but who else is left, you know?”

“I know, Steve,” she said. She did know. “You can’t blame yourself either. I know it’s easy to. It’s easier to blame the one person you know the most than accept the truth.”

Steve was silent on the other end.

“Steve, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer for a while, and Bucky looked at her real worried. She only held his hand back in reassurance.

“I don’t know,” Steve finally responded. “No. I’m not. She was all that was left.”

“I know,” she said, reflexively.

Steve scoffed, “No, you really don’t. You’re living in the time you were born in with the same people around you, with the same places in your memories, with the same music, and you’ll grow old with all of that.”

His voice was angry, but it wasn’t aimed at her. He was screaming at an abyss, at a void, the only thing that made sense to scream at because everything else that made sense was gone.

“I’m sorry, Evelyn, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, Steve. I get it, I really do.”

“It’s only because you’re the closest thing now. You’ve seen that other place, the other life that could have been. You’re the only other person that understands. And God knows where Bucky is,” he sounded exhausted.

A wave of guilt washed over her, and she realized her eyes were shut to keep the tears from falling. “We’ll find him, Steve. We’ll get him back,” her voice was shaky now, and she found her eyes leaking, breaths lightly shaking.

Every single drop of guilt she had felt since the start began to fill her stomach and made it weigh like lead. Bucky was right here, he was found. Steve didn’t have to feel so out of time if she just…

“Steve, what if we did find Bucky, what then?”

Bucky threw off the blankets and looked at her, shaking his head. She placed a hand on his. That’s all she could do.

“I don’t know,” he said.

Maybe he was too sad to think about it. Evelyn hated herself immediately.

But Steve mustered a laugh on the line, “I’d talk to him. It would just be nice to talk to someone like me. Someone I know, someone I really know. Try to make sense of the now together. Everything’s been so new. 1945 wasn’t that long ago for me, I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything. I thought Peggy could help me, but she…”

His voice broke for a moment, but he cleared his throat. “She lived this whole life. She got married, had kids, had grandkids. She’s had time. To start over, to move on, to live. And I thought…”

“It’s alright, Steve,” was all she could say. Help him keep going. That was all she could do.

“The world only sees Captain America. She sees…saw Steve Rogers. Captain America can fit in just fine here, there’s plenty of wrongs to punch right. But Steve? He might have been left behind in 1945. Peggy took what I know of me with her.”

“Oh, Steve,” she said, feeling her chest empty again. “It’s scary, I know. Finding old life after something so life changing happens to you. But that’s the thing about everything that happens. You get to find out who you are. Peggy did it. She found life after the war. And it might have been hard losing you, trying to move past losing you, but she found life. It’s going to be hard for you, like it was for her, but she lived it. You’re going to live it too. It’s going to take time. And new people. That’s all you can do. And the people from before, don’t worry about them. They’ll find their way back to you. Just like you found your way to Peggy.”

“Evelyn, I—”

“We’ll find Bucky, I promise.”

Steve sighed, both defeated and triumphant. It was something Evelyn couldn’t comprehend. Steve was something Evelyn could hardly comprehend.

“You’ll be okay, Steve. I know it. Peggy knew it. I don’t think she would’ve left if she didn’t feel you’d be okay.”

Evelyn heard him sniffing on the other line, and she let him. She sank back into the bed and into Bucky’s arms, chest to chest. He held her tightly as she held the phone to her ear. For a moment, it was the three of them, in their shared memories, in their hope for a shared future. She couldn’t help but feel guilty for the moment not being real.

“Thanks for this, Evelyn,” Steve finally said, after an infinite second of grief.

“Anytime, Steve, really. I’ll be a call away,” she said, her chin moving against Bucky’s shoulder. “If you don’t mind me asking, when’s the funeral?”

Their breaths had hitched at that, even Bucky’s. It was as if he shared lungs with Steve or Evelyn.

“Wednesday, in London,” Steve sighed.

“Do you want me to come?” Evelyn offered.

A mix of relief and grief soaked his chuckle, “That would be…”

“You can say no,” she added in.

“No, Evelyn, it would mean a lot. If you could.”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see. Her chin rubbing against Bucky’s shoulder, and she could feel the seam where his flesh met the warming metal. “I’ll be there, Steve. Text me the details, if that isn’t too overwhelming for you.”

Steve laughed for real, and she felt Bucky stifle a laugh under her.

“I’ll just have Nat do it for me,” Steve joked back. “I can’t thank you enough, Evelyn. Thanks for being here.”

“I’ll be here for you until the day I die, Steve,” she said with a smile. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

And with that, there was silence.

Evelyn put her arms around Bucky, the smell of him bringing immediate comfort.

“Peggy?” he said, his voice barely a whisper, tickling her ear.

“Yeah. In her sleep,” she said. Her voice was tired, but she felt wide awake.

They were both quiet, letting death settle on them. And it was a different kind of death. It wasn’t the faceless nameless violent death they saw in their shared memories. It was a quiet peaceful death, of someone familiar, of someone that could have been close, of someone that had lived a long life. That kind of death was harder to face because it was so unusual. But they let it settle and hoped that it was the kind of death that the other would get.

Then Bucky broke the silence, “What’s that other place he was talking about?”

Evelyn’s heart jumped to her throat. The other place wasn’t much different for her, that’s why it never came up in memory recover. But of course, it was for Steve. He had died there.

“I think that’s for him to tell you,” she said, throat tight, refusing to think about it. But the question she had been asking since that day began circling again: Did Joanna die in all universes?

“Sorry for listening in,” he interrupted her spiraling thoughts, and she was glad for it.

“It’s alright. I offered in the first place,” Evelyn said, but her voice didn’t sound like hers for a second. She was somewhere else.

“Do you want to go to London with me?” Evelyn was desperate to get her voice back, to leave the spiral from the far away past.

“What use will I be? I can’t really show my face after all this time. Not like this,” _not completely fixed_ , she knew he wanted to say. But from the way he spoke, he was sure about his position. He knew what he felt like before Evelyn asked. “Besides, you’ll be there. You’re more than enough.”

“But he still has you,” she said. She wanted it to be true, but it wasn’t yet. They had a long way to go.

“You, too. Until the day you die, apparently,” Bucky said with a smile.

She only held him tighter, burying her face deeper into his hair, “I’ll be here for you, too, until the day I die.”

Evelyn felt his arms around her tighten, as if they were both afraid they’d dissolve into smoke and be left with nothing.

“I’ll die for you, Evelyn,” Bucky said after a long moment of just holding each other in the silence.

“You’re not dying. Not for me. You’re going to live forever, and Steve will be with you,” her voice was muffled by his hair.

“What is life worth without you?”

“Then I’m living forever, too.”


	13. 13. Civil War Overture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this universe, Panera exists in the UK. Also, thanks for reading this far. Comment and everything.

#### June 22nd, 2016 4AM, Bucharest

“I’ll be back by Thursday,” Evelyn said as they walked down the building stairs together. She had her duffel bag in hand, but Bucky snatched it from her in the last second.

“You can stay longer, you know,” he offered as he carried the duffel back by its strap.

“Maybe if Steve asks me to,” she said. The longer she was with Steve, the guiltier she’d feel, the more she’ll be likely to spill. How she didn’t spill everything to him in Sokovia in her shock, Evelyn will never know. “You really want to get rid of me, do you?”

Bucky stood in front of the door, arms crossed, a false frown on his face, “Yes, I do. I’d finally have the blankets to myself.”

She stood on her toes, so their faces were a millimeter apart. “Without me there, you’ll be even colder.”

She gave him a kiss on his forehead and without realizing, they both recalled the first time they had kissed. It was after explaining their memory crossovers about Steve. Bucky told her about how they’d gone tobogganing after a heavy snowfall and Steve slipped off the toboggan from not holding on too tight. After, she told him about how Stark’s walkways in his high tower had iced over and Steve spent a full 2 minutes trying to recover from a slip before she finally pushed him down. Bucky and Evelyn’s stomachs ached from hard laughter before finally quieting down. They had found their faces millimeters from each other, and they closed the distance with their lips. Somehow, their noses hadn’t bumped into each other, their hands were intertwined in an instant, and their hearts were beating out of their chests. Evelyn felt his bioelectric activity pulse through her hands, and it synced into hers. There were more over the past year, on the balcony, on the bus, waiting in line for the Chinese takeout, sitting on the roof after gentle sparring, noses getting in the way, hands on waists or shoulders or cheeks or against walls or doorknobs or windows, toes curling, lips chapped, tastes and smells of everything, pulse syncing or not.

Evelyn pulled herself out of that infinite second and realized she was grinning ear to ear, as he picked her up, backpack and all, and carried her out into the quiet street out front. By the time he put her down, her stomach was aching from stifled laughter and the corners of her mouth hurt from smiling too hard.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Evelyn broke the silence of their wait for the 2 AM bus. She knew he was sure, but she didn’t want him to be.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Bucky gave her a smile.

The open space outside the early morning city and the occasional drunk in the distance didn’t give him the privilege to be transparent in front of her.

“But give him my love,” he pulled her closer to him, sharing their warmth.

“You know I will,” Evelyn leaned against him. She wished things could be different. She wished Bucky could come. She wished he would give Steve his love himself. But when she gave him a final kiss, with that quick but never-ending tessellation of memory, and found herself in front of Steve’s hotel room door through a series of buses and planes and cabs three hours later, things were still the same.

Only, when he opened his door to her knock, there was that overwhelming emotion from the past, back in Potosi, in Sokovia, returning from the other world, that came rushing back to join the present. Things got harder when the variables got realer.

“Steve,” she tried to smile, and she gave him a shaky one. Her feet moved to close the distance, and her arms move to envelop him. Steve quickly returned the hug, and she felt him shift, rubbing at his eyes as he did. Neither of them shook in sobs, like they had after the other world, but they embraced each other like they shared that moment and now this.

Evelyn didn’t let go until he did, and then they held each other an arm’s length apart, looking for change.

“Steve, it’s four in the morning, what are you doing in your suit?” She saw his eyes red and puffy, and he sniffled as he stood there in a black suit and tie. He saw her guilt, how transparent she was, how she’s been hiding his best friend for more than a year, probably.

“I couldn’t sleep. Might as well get ready,” he pursed his lips, like it was a smile. “You should’ve called me to pick you up.”

She could hear the scratch in his soft voice. He cleared his throat and lead her into the room after taking the duffle bag strap off her shoulder.

“I didn’t think you’d be awake. I barely am.”  She just didn’t want to subject him to the public. At any other moment, he would be okay with the crowding and the children and the cameras, just maybe not this moment.

“I’ve—”

“What’s up, new girl,” said a deep, sleepy voice to their left. On one of the queen beds in the room, a man was sitting up in his blankets.

Steve sighed, “Sorry I woke you, Sam. This is Evelyn.”

Evelyn moved to shake his hand that he offered out. “Sorry for the late arrival.”

Sam shook his head, rubbing his eyes, “It’s all good. I tried to stay up with this guy, but…” he shrugged. He laid back down and began snoring.

“This the guy from Triskelion?” Evelyn dropped her voice to a whisper.

Steve nodded, sitting at the edge of the bed, head now on his hands. Evelyn was about to ask if he was okay when he sat up suddenly.

“Has Tony called you yet?” he blinked at her.

She was speechless for a moment, not sure what was happening.

Steve shook his head, “Please distract me, Evelyn. I’ve been thinking about Peggy for three days and it’s all everyone ever wants to talk to me about.”

Evelyn nodded, taking a seat at the hotel chair at the corner. “Yeah, he did. Told me to sit tight and be careful with what I do with my abilities.”

Reflexively, her fingers sparked in command, as if checking that they were still there.

“What do you think about it?” his eyebrows were scrunched. She wasn’t sure if he was truly that interested, or he was just trying hard to be.

But she nodded, entertaining him. “It’s kinda scary. I’m not too keen on the registry. That’s just precedence for more control over the superpowered. Why should the government have full file on me just because of the way I was made and born? Sure, there are birth certificates and citizenship records, but this is different. If the government knows the type of powers people have, we’re put on some kind of danger watch list, we could be labeled, we could be tracked, we could be discriminated against because of it. People can hardly handle race and gender and sexuality and everything that was there before this superpowered shit busted out, how can they handle superpowers on top of that? And the government having that information? I just don’t trust it.” Evelyn put her head in her hands. She just didn’t know anymore. All she knew it was bad news.

“It’s all about control for them,” he said, quietly, in realization.

“It’s natural to fear what you don’t know,” Evelyn added. “I get it. They’re just trying to prevent the next superpowered melt down. But possibly marginalizing a whole group of people for the actions of a cracked few just isn’t rational.”

That headache seemed to grow. She and Bucky had talked about it the morning after Stark and Steve’s call. _Then those that use their powers for evil will be punished. The Accords just makes it easier to punish them,_ he had said, but she knew the tone he used. The one after each memory recovery, when each kill was fresh in their minds. He thought the Accords were reparations for the Russians’ crimes.

“And sometimes, those cracked few aren’t even in control,” Evelyn blurted out. “I think because the Accords come from a place of fear, it’s not objective, and therefore, can’t apply objective policies to Enhanced.” She had finally strung the words she struggled to find when talking to Bucky. _The Accords could be anything they want it to be. They just want some form of control over the things that scare them. I scare them, Bucky. And they’d gladly tell me how and when I should use my powers if they could. I’d barely have free will,_ she had said instead. She was silent after that, realizing she just recited the past 70 years of his life.

“And what’s to prevent the government from making a terrible decision that the Enhanced or the Avengers couldn’t control? Too many people have been at the mercy of men following orders,” she distracted herself from the memory. “But their heart’s in the right place. I’m just not sure if the way that they’re going about it is the way to go. It would take a lot of trust for everyone involved.” When she looked up, she saw Steve had laid down, and his breathing was steady.

“Steve?” she called out softly, standing up from the chair.

“I’m awake,” he said just as soft.

“Do you think you’ll sign?” she sat back in the chair, relaxing, staring at the ceiling as if it were a window showing a world full of disasters and wonders stemming from this point in time, like that other world, and all those other worlds.

“No. It takes away free agency that we were built on,” he simply said, like he’d been waiting to say it. Not to her, just in general. To Tony, to the UN, to anyone.

“Me neither,” was the last thing she said before the window on the ceiling had faded into dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

Evelyn and Sam had an empty space between them as they stood at the front pew of the church. Her eyes were already sore from crying with Steve on the way to the church, and Peggy Carter’s framed portrait at the front almost made her crack again. But before she could cry for the spitting image of the girl from the other world, the choir in the back of the church had started their hymns, and Steve and the other pallbearers began to walk down the aisle, carrying Peggy Carter’s coffin.

 _Down the aisle_. Steve must have thought he’d be walking down the aisle to meet Peggy in her wedding dress. He must have thought he’d be walking his daughter down the aisle to give her away. Anything that another version of him in another universe could have done. Anything but this.

Evelyn was still bleeding guilt, but a different kind. Why did she or anyone get to live in their time? Why did it have to be Steve? Those questions made her jaw clench until she realized she was doing it.

When they had gently placed the coffin on the stand, Steve took his place between her and Sam. Instinctively, Evelyn placed a comforting hand on his back. When she took his hand as they stood, he squeezed it back until the priest approached the front and seated them.

The whole time, Steve was fidgeting with his hands, picking at hangnails, running over his knuckles. Apart from that, he was still. But she couldn’t help but feel the air around him and how similar it was to Bucky whenever they came out of memory recovery. It was the feeling of guilt and emptiness and melancholy and resentfulness.

Peggy Carter’s niece was at the podium now, eulogizing her aunt. She talked about Peggy’s words of compromise and determination where compromise isn’t an option. The air changed then, Evelyn felt it. Peggy had come back to life for a moment and gave Steve some advice. For once, someone else had come up with the inspiring words to push him what to do what he knew was right. And it was from Peggy.

When the service ended, everyone got up to leave, stopping to shake Captain America’s hand. He had some words with Peggy’s family, and after a while, the church was empty. It was just Evelyn, Sam, and Steve. They leaned against a pew for a while, just staring at the stained-glass windows around them.

The window portraying Christ carrying his cross and his mother and Mary Magdalene losing their minds beside him had caught Evelyn’s eye when Steve suddenly said, “Can I be alone right now, guys?”

That seemed to shake Sam a little, “You sure?”

Steve only nodded.

Evelyn straightened herself, “I’m a call away, Steve.” Then they embraced each other for what she thought would be the last time for the next few months.

“Thanks for coming, Ev,” Steve held her at arm’s length, looking for the changes that had happened when she had been away.

 “My flight’s at 4, we still have time to catch up if you want,” she said before nodding at Sam and walking with him to the door.

They had just joined the busy street outside when a woman’s voice called out to her from behind, “Evelyn.”

Natasha was there, dressed in formal black, something Evelyn's never seen her in.

“Nat?” Evelyn turned. For a quick moment, they just stood there looking at each other, wondering if it had been long enough for them to be okay to hug. Then Nat slowly came in, and Evelyn returned the gesture.

“What are you doing here?” Nat asked, pulling out of the hug and holding Evelyn out at arm’s length, just looking at her. Was everyone she was going to see going to do this?

“Steve asked me to come. He said he wanted to be alone just now, though,” she shrugged and held Nat’s hands as they joined. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to get Steve to sign, no doubt,” Sam said behind them, more annoyed than bitter.

Nat rolled her eyes, “I care sometimes, too, Wilson.”

“You’re signing?” Evelyn said out of shock.

“I can’t make 117 countries not sign it, Evelyn. I’d rather let them tell me what to do than not be able to do anything at all,” Nat said.

“You look calmly resigned for someone who got out of being controlled by other people,” Evelyn remarked, and Nat retracted her hands.

Then they were back to wondering if it had been long enough to be amicable again.

“I’m leaving for Vienna for the signing. I’d be glad if you joined,” Nat switched her tone. She was professional now, with the way that she had her hands clasped, her chin was raised a millimeter, and how her eyes had quickly emptied themselves of emotion.

Evelyn only smiled at how quickly she had changed her face, but she felt the corners of her mouth quiver, “No, thank you, Natasha. I’ll be seeing you, though. Steve’s in the church.”

Before Nat could say anything, Evelyn quickly turned around and followed the crowd of the street.

“What was that?” Sam said after a time of silently following her.

“Just Natasha being Natasha,” Evelyn told the horizon, afraid of giving anything away if she looked at him.  A laugh slipped out of her mouth, but it was the complete opposite of everything she had been feeling. Her feet then started taking her back to the hotel.

“How do you know them?” Sam met her stride.

“I was S.H.I.E.L.D. before S.H.I.E.L.D. went to shit.”

“And after?”

“I was in South America for a while, then Steve found me, then there was this intern team—”

“Wait a minute, you’re not Hercules, are you?”

Another laugh bubbled into her mouth, and she faltered in her step, “Haven’t heard that name in a while.”

Sam laughed, but more out of amazement, “Cap never put a real name to the name. That’s so cool. Taking down all those bases by yourself. Sorta legendary.”

Evelyn scoffed, “Yeah, months of dead silence from anyone, it got lonely. Where were you after S.H.I.E.L.D. died? Cap talked about you, but how come I never met you before?”

Sam shrugged, “I’ve been chasing dead ends looking for his best friend.”

“Barnes?” Evelyn almost tripped with her feet and her tongue. But she managed not to choke.

“Yeah. Heard of him?” Sam suddenly sounded inquisitive, his eyes narrowing at her.

“Yeah, there’s a whole spot on him at the Smithsonian. Why are you looking at me like that?”

He laughed and looked away, “I’ve been having a hard time looking for him. I can barely stop myself from asking everyone I meet.”

Another person to apologize to.

“How long you been at it?” _Please don’t say_ a long time. _Please don’t say_ a long time.

“Pretty much since S.H.I.E.L.D. bit it. Two years,” Sam ran the math in his head.

“That’s a long time,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m losing my mind,” he chuckled.

“Hopefully, you get close,” Evelyn said, trying to pass it off as an apology. It probably didn’t work.

Sam snorted, “Natasha’s gone after him before. She didn’t come up with anything. If master spy doesn’t come up with anything, I don’t know how much I can do.”

So, he didn’t know about the S.H.I.E.L.D. Watcher patterns in Fury’s file. He didn’t know about Coulson’s S.H.I.E.L.D. being alive, either.

“Well, things are different, now. HYDRA isn’t here to hide him. Barnes might be better in the wind than being with HYDRA. You got the hotel key?”

Sam pulled out the card from his pocket and swiped it into the door, “Sounds like you’ve thought about this before,” Sam looked at her again, but with real curiosity this time.

Evelyn shrugged, walking into the room and slipping her heels off. “Steve asked me about him after South America,” she pulled out the old memory she forgot she had. “After all that time taking down bases, you’d think I’d come across something.”

“Did you?”

“We wouldn’t be talking about it if I did. You want Panera?” she quickly changed the subject after an infinity of walking and dodging his questions.

“We just got here,” Sam groaned, face down on his bed.

Evelyn rolled her eyes and grabbed her duffle bag into the bathroom. “I’m going to get changed, then we’re going to Panera.”

“Does England even have Panera?” he called out to her as she shut the door.

Her first thought was to sit down and cry about everything. Instead, she sat down on the floor, gravitated towards her phone instead, and started dialing Bucky’s number.

“Evelyn?” he picked up on the first ring, voice lively.

“Alo, Marcu,” she said with a smile, but she couldn't hold it up for long.

“ _Someone with you_?” he said in Romanian.

“Yeah. _Steve’s friend, Sam,_ ”

“ _Oh, I remember him,_ ” he groaned.

“ _You know him?_ ”

“ _Yeah, I fucked up his suit and threw him off a helicarrier._ ”

“ _I don’t think he’s mad at you. He’s looking for you for Steve._ ”

“ _Doesn’t mean he doesn’t hate me. He just doesn’t hate Steve._ ”

“No one could hate Steve,” she said.

“Not even me when I was supposed to,” Bucky laughed. “Why’d you call?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” she couldn’t help but smile.

 _“_ Well, here it is, la la la,” he said, singing at her.

She laughed, but only for a short moment. Something in her heart dropped, and she didn’t know why.

“What’s wrong?” he detected.

Her throat was tight, and her heart was beating through her chest. “I just thought about Steve and Peggy today. He lost her twice. It just got me thinking.”

About what? She knew what, she just didn’t want to think about it. The last time she thought about it, Joanna had died.

“Well, you ain’t losing me,” he said. She could almost hear the small lift on the corners of his mouth. “And I ain’t losing you.”

Evelyn’s stomach flipped, and she felt the need to just move, to just _go._

“We’re all living forever, right?” he said, the smile coming through sound now.

She laughed, her face hurting from smiling, but her eyes felt like they were going to spill over an ocean.

There was a rap on the door, and Sam half-yelled through the door, “Are we going to Panera?”

“God damn it, Sam,” she half-yelled back. But she thought about it, “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

“Ei, prinţesă,” she said to the phone. “I gotta go eat breakfast.”

Evelyn heard him smile, “Yeah, go. You’ll be home this afternoon, right?”

“More like tonight. My flight’s at 4.”

Bucky groaned, “Okay. Do you want anything from the market? I’m going later in the afternoon.”

Evelyn tried to organize her brain, pushing butterflies away from her thoughts, “Strawberries. Maybe some placinta dobrogeana from the store across the street.”

“You got it,” he said with a smile. “See you tonight.”

“Bye,” she said, and instinctively, reflexively, out loud, she said in the split second before the line clicked dead, “I love you.”

There was radio silence on the other end as Evelyn almost threw her phone across the room in surprise. What the fuck was that.

“Shit,” Evelyn said out loud. It couldn’t be true. She couldn’t. But there was nothing she could do at this point except pray he hadn’t heard it or say he didn’t love her or laugh. _Shit._

In a fevered rush, Evelyn got changed into her street clothes and sneakers. She got her bags all ready for departure, fumbling with her clothes, not holding on to the chance that Steve stopped wanting to be alone, but wishing he would. She couldn’t go home. Not until she forgot that accident.

“England does have Panera. Steve says he’s walking Sharon back to her hotel. We could catch him after we eat,” Sam said as she got out of the bathroom.

“Sharon? Peggy Carter’s niece?” she responded, distracting herself.

“Yeah. And S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that lived across Steve’s apartment on Fury’s orders,” Sam said with a grin as they left the hotel and made their way to the nearest Panera.

“No shit,” Evelyn looked at Sam to see if he was kidding. There was a smile on his face, but he didn’t look to be lying. “What are they?”

Sam shrugged as they followed the flow of the crowd. “We didn’t even know she was Peggy’s niece until her eulogy.”

Evelyn thought about it for a second, “That’s kinda weird.”

“That she didn’t tell anyone that she was Peggy’s niece?”

“That she’s Peggy’s niece and Steve’s…”

“You’re right, now that I think about it,” he made a face of displeasure as they joined the Panera queue.

“Do you think Peggy would have wanted him to move on like that?” she wondered aloud.

“That’s an ouroboros dilemma that isn’t for me,” Sam said.

They ate their breakfast in silence outside, watching the Londoners pass by them. But Evelyn couldn’t help thinking about the ouroboros. Peggy would have loved for Steve to move on. Would she have loved it if he moved on with her niece. Steve would have loved for Evelyn and Bucky to move past everything he knew about. But would he have loved for them to move on with it together? Especially with the fact that Evelyn knew about Bucky’s whereabouts for more than a year.

Evelyn was pulled out of her thoughts and into the present with a “What the hell…” from Sam.

Everybody seemed to be standing still, but there was a buzz of worry and fear in the air. Everyone was concentrated on any screen, all of them displaying the same thing. Both she and Sam gravitated to the nearest person holding a smart phone. The Vienna International Centre had been bombed.

“The Accords signing. Nat’s there,” Evelyn felt breathless. Her lungs were airless when the “At least 4 dead including King T’Chaka” headline appeared on screen.

“We gotta get to Steve,” Evelyn said, pulling herself from the screen, taking Sam with her.

“What hotel?” she spit out.

“It’s just a block down,” he said, and started to jog. Evelyn followed. She didn’t know how her heart could function at this moment. Who could have done this?

They ran into the hotel and caught Steve and Sharon in front of the elevators.

“Steve,” Sam called out, breathless, stopping Steve and Sharon from moving.

“Carter, got a TV in your room?” Evelyn said, a little too loud, trying not to sound breathless.

The three of them watched the news footage of the bombing’s aftermath while Sharon was in the background, talking rapidly on the phone. 70 were injured, 8 more people dead. They were all glued to the screen, not knowing what to think. All they could do was watch, for now.

Then the news station released a screen capture of security footage. The suspect. There was a familiar face, and that was all that was familiar.

“Holy shit,” the breath was knocked out from Evelyn. She tried not to show the shock. Her legs almost gave out. She looked at Steve. That’s what she would do if she didn’t know Bucky. She wouldn’t grab her phone and start dialing.

In their moment of bewildered silence, Sharon joined them, staring at the screen, “I have to go to work.”

Evelyn didn’t dare speak. She would’ve given everything away at that second if she opened her mouth. So, when she followed Sam and Steve back their room, she was silent. When they talked about how they should bring him in, if they had their respective suits, where they should meet Sharon to fly to Vienna, Evelyn was silent.

When Steve turned to her and asked if she was in, she shook her head so vigorously she saw stars. Maybe she was already seeing stars since the footage had been released.

Steve looked at her for a long second, waiting for her to change her mind, but he only nodded. Then he made his way to hug her, and she could barely return it. When Steve and Sam disappeared through the front doors of the hotel, she grabbed her phone and tried not to scream.

Evelyn pressed the first speed dial number and it picked up on the first ring.

“Evelyn what the hell is going on?” Maria Hill scolded her through the other line. She didn’t even bother with the code.

“I’m in London. I need a quinjet,” she spat. “Heathrow airport. Or whichever empty field is nearby. You have my location.”

“Akari—”

“Get me the fucking jet, Hill! Now! Please!” she wouldn’t let her voice break.

“Hyde Park. In 30 minutes—”

“You don’t have anything faster?” she half-screamed at the phone.

“That is the safest speed the quinjet can fly on autopilot, Evelyn,” Hill didn’t scream. Why wasn’t she screaming?

“Okay,” Evelyn matched Hill’s tone, she was spent.

“Care to explain what’s going on?”

“Can you direct me to Hyde Park?” Evelyn said quietly. The whole world was shut out, and it was just her feet walking in the direction her brain told her.

“Take a left here,” Hill said, and Evelyn turned the corner.

“I’m in London for Peggy Carter’s funeral. Steve asked me to come,” Evelyn was near tears, but she wouldn’t let herself break yet.

“And you trusted Barnes to be by himself?” Hill could’ve screamed, but she didn’t. “Follow this road until I tell you when.”

“Of course, I did. I still do. He’s not HYDRA anymore, Hill. He’s in control. The only time he wasn’t—”

“‘The only time he wasn’t?’” Hill’s voice dropped to a sharp whisper. “Did you ever have this on your report?”

“No, because I knew you’d pull me out,” She didn’t want to leave. “Is the jet still on the way?”

“You’re lucky your assignment isn’t on file or I would’ve called this in,” Hill said. “At this point, you’re the only one that knows enough about him. You’re the next best person to catch him. Turn left on Grosvenor.”

“Who’s the first?” She turned left on Grosvenor.

“Cap.”

“But I know where he is,” Evelyn said. “He doesn’t yet.”

“How would you know—”

“Barnes never left Bucharest. Not without telling me,” Evelyn said. It was a bold claim now that she said it out loud. But she believed it. “He didn’t do the bombing either. Someone must have framed him.”

“Do you really believe that?” Hill wasn’t sardonic about it.

“Yeah, I do,” Evelyn said. Did she?

“Continue forward. You’ll see the jet. It just landed,” Hill said, and Evelyn took off on a run. “Good luck, Akari.”

“Could you tell Fury—”

“That there’s nothing to worry about?”

“Yeah. At least, not on my front. I got this.”

“You better,” Hill said with finality. “They ordered an SOS order on Barnes. It’ll be a fire fight. Whatever you’re planning, be careful.”

“Thanks, Hill. I owe you.”

“You’re going to start owe me for the rest of your life if you keep saying that,” she said before hanging up.

When Evelyn got to the jet without air in her lungs, there were a few people gathering around it. Evelyn got the jet to open the bay door with a twist of an outstretched hand. The civvies jumped back in surprise and scrutinized her as she waltzed into the jet.

“’Zis je’ yohz?” a child called to her as she walked up the ramp.

 _Is this jet yours?_ It took a moment for her to translate the accent. “It’s Captain America’s,” she said without turning, shutting the door behind her with another twist of her hand.

She placed her hand on the digital pad and the quinjet’s voice piped up “ _Welcome, voice activation required_.”

And with a “Spark Plug” from Evelyn, the quinjet was up and running. Pushing the jet to Mach 8 the way Evelyn was, it would take 10 minutes to get to Bucharest. This was when she picked up her phone to dial Bucky. There was a second of silence between each ring.

The silence didn’t go to waste, it let her think. She couldn’t park the quinjet on the roof. A tactical team would blow it up or shoot it down the moment they saw it. So, she’d have to park it in Arena Naţională. But parking it there would have to bring in extraction routes. Escape route 2 was the most protective on the way to the Arena.

One problem down. The other was sweeping the apartment for anything implicating. And there was one bright implicating thing under her floor.

On the last ring of the phone, it went to voicemail.

 _Shit_.

She tried two more times, until the quinjet slowed down to a stop and that magnified elevator headache hit her hard.

On the third call, Bucky picked up on the fourth ring, “Hey, I got you strawberries from the market.”

“Where are you right now?” she said as she set the jet’s autopilot to land in the Arena Naţională. She ran out the jet, and it flew away by the time she was in the staircase.

“‘Bulevardul Poligrafiel,’” he read out the nearest sign. “I’m on the way home.”

Evelyn didn’t waste time, “You can’t go home, they said you bombed Vienna today, and they’ll know where you live. They have a shoot on sight order on you, James.”

“Where are you?” Bucky’s tone changed, and Evelyn could almost hear his frown and his panic.

Evelyn was flying down the stairs, trying to count floors at the same time, “I took a quinjet home. I’ll clean up.”

“Evie, you can’t be there. It’s too dangerous,” he said, his voice was breathless now, running.

“Someone has to sweep up, right?” she said, trying to go faster, panic settling in the both of them, breaths almost in sync.

Bucky snapped her out of the rapid pace thinking and panic in her, “Evie, you can’t—”

“Arena Naţională, that’s where I’m parking the jet. Take Escape Route 2,” she said. “I’ll meet you there, I’m almost home.”

Her legs and lungs were burning, but in two more flights, and a few more minutes in Bucky’s flat, and a few in her’s, and they’re home free.

“Bucky, I—” Evelyn started, but there was a noise two flights down. She peered over and there was a mass exodus moving down the stairs, the tenants were being evacuated.

“Shit,” Evelyn muttered, panicking. She almost tripped on her feet as she ran down the stairs, shoving her key into the door knob

“Evie—”

“They’re evacuating the building, Bucky. Don’t come back here,”

“Evie, get the hell out of—”

“ _The Arena, James, like we discussed_ ,” she said in Romanian, quickly hanging up.

She busted into her apartment and turned on the CCS. For an advanced S.H.I.E.L.D. tech, it was pretty slow to start up. Evelyn fumbled through her drawers for a thumb drive. She almost cried out of frustration until she came across a thumb drive. She stumbled on the CCS and plugged the drive into the port and let the scanner copy itself into the drive. As she prayed to all the gods in the universe and all other universes for the drive to have enough space, she got off her feet and started looking for Bucky’s journals that could be lying around her apartment. She had three in her hand when there was a loud banging on her door and a quiet beep from the CCS.

“CE?” she screamed.

“ _The police want us to evacuate the building. Some gas leak or something!_ ” the landlord screamed back.

“BINE,” she yelled, trying to make him go away.

“ _Suit yourself_ ,” she heard him mutter as he moved on to the next door.

She rushed to the CCS blinking green “ _data copy complete_.” Evelyn didn’t have time to celebrate. She packed up the CCS, throwing the electrode cap in there, and making sure the password that Fitz had installed was still there. Then she grabbed the CCS and flew out the door.

“Orsi?” she knocked on the old lady’s open door. _Please let this old lady be trustworthy._ Evelyn tried not to fidget or look suspicious as the tenants around her began to file down the stairs.

“Evelyn. _Is everything okay_?” the old woman was doing a walkthrough in her apartment, making sure the stove was turned off. Her snow-white cat, Lyuda, was tucked around her arm, hanging comfortably.

“ _Yeah, can you hold something for me?_ ” she showed her the briefcase.

“ _What’s wrong with your apartment?_ ” Orsi narrowed her eyes at Evelyn.

“ _I don’t trust the government,_ ” Evelyn prayed that that would work. It was the truth.

Orsi then had this knowing look in her eyes and beckoned her in with a crooked finger.

“ _Shut the door, first._ ”

And when Evelyn shut the door behind her, the old lady then popped open a floor board, and in it were several books and boxes.

“ _I won’t ask what’s in that case if you don’t ask about anything in there,_ ” Orsi whispered. “ _Time under_ _Ceaușescu_   _was hard. Sometimes the truth was destroyed if it went against his regime. Never again should that happen._ ”

Orsi spoke with a shaky voice as Evelyn placed the CCS case into the hole in the floor.

“ _Replace the floor_ ,” Orsi said, and Evelyn put the board back in its place.

“ _Thank you, Orsi. I’ll come back for it, soon,_ ” Evelyn stood. “ _You should evacuate_.” She held the door open, and Orsi left her apartment with Lyuda in her arms.

“Be careful, girl,” the old lady whispered in English with her thick Romanian accent. “With whatever you’re going to do.” The old lady looked at her with a twinkle in her eye before she descended down the stairs.

Evelyn ran back to her apartment after Orsi had disappeared down the stairs, doing a walk through. She checked the closet for anything that she didn’t want to leave behind. She grabbed her tac suit and the blue goggles from Sokovia and threw it on the couch where her backpack was. She rushed to her own floorboard pocket and pulled out the arc reactor Tony gave her. Then she emptied out her backpack and threw the journals, the tac suit, goggles, and arc reactor in there. She took the gun under the bed, the tranq gun from under the sink, the one from under the dining table and threw that all in the backpack. One of them she tucked behind her jeans.

 _Walking through your apartment,_ she was in the middle of texting when she stopped and stared at Bucky’s open door. It wouldn’t make sense for him to be there, he was supposed to be on his way to the Arena. If the police wanted him, they wouldn't have told the landlord to evacuate his apartment too.

 _Shit._ Evelyn put the phone in her pocket and took off her Faraday bracelet. She took the thumb drive form her pocket and put it in her shoe. She thought about all the things she could say to the stranger in the apartment, but nothing was logical. Her entering the apartment was not at all logical.

She opened the door, fingers drilling, hungry for energy.

The sight she was met with filled her with relief, then guilt. In the worst time. It would come spilling out now, everything she never told him.

But somehow, the panic took over the guilt, setting her back to halfway normal. “You found him,” she called out gently.

Steve only stared at her, so many emotions moving through his eyes, the gears turning in his head.

Evelyn didn’t realize she was crying until she was wiping her face off with her sleeve. She might have started when the quinjet landed, maybe even before that. Then she remembered the walk through, and pushed passed him, then started gently tapping on the floor, looking for the hollow panel.

“This whole time,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It was a matter of fact. He said it to make it real for himself.

She stopped moving, “It wasn’t my call.”

“Fury?” Steve asked, his quiet voice was near to boiling over in rage.

“He was the one that gave me this assignment, he calls the shots,” she said but that was a lie. And Evelyn had taken full control of the wheel from Fury a long time ago. Only now did she realize that, and only now did she realize that she had relinquished that control to Bucky. But the words out of her mouth was more acceptable to say to Steve. And maybe, it was less scary to admit than the truth.

In one of her stomps, her foot went in and a floor panel went up. “I know it’s a lot, and I know I lied. But now isn’t the best time to explain everything.” Her voice was shaky, her breathing was starting to get erratic, and it took all her focus not to suck up the electricity in the building or begin blubbering out everything to Steve.

She reached in the hole in the floor and fished out a backpack, heavy with Bucky’s journals. “All I can say now is that Bucky didn’t do it, Cap. I just know he didn’t.”

Evelyn started walking through the apartment, looking for journals. There was one on the table top, another on the shelf by the door. She packed that all in his backpack.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” there was a chill in his voice as he put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from walking out the door.

“No,” she plainly said. That was a slap to his face. He was silent now, frozen.

Something changed in his eyes that broke her more than Nat changing her face deliberately. She could’ve cried right there, but it was better he hated her than hated Bucky. It was his omission, but Steve didn’t need to hate him for that.

“Steve, I’m sorry, I really am, but we _have_ to go,” Evelyn turned around again, only to find Bucky staring at her and Captain, fear in his eyes.

“James,” there was a new panic in Evelyn. Not that school girl panic with accidental words, but death panic. This-could-be-the-end panic. There were no logical scenarios that she wouldn’t need to use her abilities now. They’d come for him and she’d have to use force. If they got caught, she’d be marked as a criminal and die in prison. What the hell would they do to Bucky?

Evelyn tried to swallow her panic. “Fuck. Okay. Okay. How long until they get here?” she asked Steve. “I’m assuming you have Sam on comms looking out for you?”

“Not long,” Steve said, quietly, still stewing, eyes going flitting from her to Bucky.

“Jump balconies, Eve,” Bucky said, not taking his eyes off Steve. Evelyn could see his brain ticking, remembering. His face was a complexity that she had only seen when he was remembering, not wanting to remember. “And stay in there.”

There was no use in trying to argue with him, or to understand what has happening between the two men in the room. They were on another plane for now.

“I’m really am sorry, Steve, for everything,” she said, but he was far away now. As soon as he set eyes on the only person that could ever understand him, he was unreachable.

“Keep your phone on you,” she told Bucky in a scolding manner, tossing him his backpack. He caught it flawlessly, but he was still in that staring contest.

Evelyn turned from the scene and quickly opened the door to the balcony, stepping up on the rail. She eyed her own balcony a good length away from Bucky’s, only a thousand-foot drop between. She swallowed her panic and fear again and jumped, finding herself hoping the googles were durable as she crashed into her patio set that Tony had sent her, glass everywhere.

She took out the arc reactor from her backpack and stared at the solidness of the bright battery hammered down the gravity of the situation. They were going to be fugitives, or they were going to die. Evelyn recalled Tony’s instructions: _Just put it_ here. He pointed to where his own reactor would be. _And press the button._ He pointed at the section painted red.

Before she could do what he said a million years ago, a loud bang outside shattered her balcony doors, then metallic pounding across the hall. Then screaming began, and gunshots erupted.

_Shit._

“Like hell I’m staying in here,” she said to herself, and undid her coat. She slammed the reactor on her ribs, quickly pressing the button. As she did, thin metal beams assembled themselves through her chest, outlining her bottom ribs, curving around her shoulders, crawling down her arms, and forming rings around her fingers to end. It wasn’t armor. It was an exoskeleton, only pumping electricity like veins.

“Okay,” was all she could say.

The reactor started buzzing, generating electricity, ready to be used. She was already excited to feel the rush using her powers would give her.

_Shit._

Before she was out her door, Evelyn remembered to button her coat up, hiding the reactor underneath. She took quick breaths as she wrenched the door open to the sounds of the firefight.  A barricading ram was demanding entrance on Bucky’s door, 3 officers standing by it, more coming up the stairs.

“Oh Doamne!” she cried out, using her best damsel in distress voice to alert any officer listening.

“ _Ma’am, I need you to go back into your apartment, please,_ ” one said in Romanian, gun lowered.

“ _What’s going on?_ ” she screamed louder, stepping closer towards them, tried to make her eyes wild with fear. That last part wasn’t too hard.

“ _You are interfering with—_ ”

Then the door flew out, and Evelyn barely moved out of its path. She saw three men knocked down in front of her door.

 _That_ escape route was compromised.

She saw Barnes fight his way down the stairs, using his metal arm and skill to the fullest efficiency. She could have stared at how fluid he seemed as he tried to escape.

But he screamed at her in Romanian, “ _ROUTE 6!”_

The words clicked, and Evelyn ran back into her apartment, running back out the balcony. He was running through the underground highway to avoid helicopter fire. That was the route, she just needed to find the fastest way down to catch a car and meet him there.

If she wanted to break her legs, she could jump and land on the roof across. If she wanted to break her legs even more, she could jump down the street if she landed correctly. Maybe crawl to a nearby car if she wasn’t knocked unconscious. If she really wanted break everything, she could try to jump at the helicopter making its rounds around the building, try to hijack it, maybe learn how to fly one in under two seconds.

An iron suit could come in handy right about now.

To her left, more glass shattered and Steve was thrown against an armed officer.

“How the hell were you planning to get out of here?” she screamed at him as he wrestled the gun away from the officer.

“Didn’t really think it would get this out of hand!” he screamed back, jumping back into the building after he subdued the officer.

“It was an SOS order, what did you think was going to happen?” she screamed at him, though he was inside.

Two more soldiers quickly rappelled down from the roof, but before they could swing out and break through the windows, Evelyn amassed energy from the reactor and redirected the electricity with a flourish of her hands, and veins of blue sparked their way through the air and at the men. Her lightning broke thunder around them. Both dropped into the balcony in their unconscious state, one spasming more than the other.

“Too hot,” she said to herself, the reactor more powerful than she thought. She discharged too much energy at the men. They usually didn’t twitch.

Evelyn jumped back to Bucky’s balcony, deciding she would be useless elsewhere, “That just guaranteed me a spot in jail, Cap! What was your extraction plan?”

He was still swinging his shield with force at whoever came at him.

“I need a way down, Steve,” she said. “And seeing as there are guns up and down the stairs, I don’t really—”

“Sam, I have a package for you, coming out the balcony,” Steve said to his comms. He threw a punch at the nearest guy, then said to Evelyn, “You’re the package. Jump out the balcony now.”

She didn’t think twice about following his command. “Why is everyone telling to jump out the damn building?” she muttered to herself, running at the balcony, eyeing the height of the rail she had to cover.

“It’s Evelyn,” she heard Captain say behind her back. “ _Now!_ ”

At that word, the world spun for a moment and she was free falling. Did she even know how she was falling? Her throat was building up into a scream when arms grabbed her under her arms and she suddenly was flying.

The sky was clouded by wingspan, and she could feel electricity churning behind her. The veins of energy outlined wings and a backpack shaped energy source. Evelyn would’ve turned around, but she feared she’d be dropped if she moved at all.

“SHIT!” she finally screamed as the arms lowered her to the nearby roof that would’ve broken her legs.

She landed gently on her legs, not broken. Evelyn turned around to see a man decked out in a red and black metal suit, wings in the process of folding behind him, booster contraptions at his ankles, and a chest piece serving as a brain for his contraption. His eyes were hidden behind red tinted goggles, and Evelyn could feel the electrical activity the goggles were performing.

“Thanks, Wilson,” she huffed, the flight of descent leaving her breathless.

“I hate you right now,” he pointed before he took off with a gust of wind.

Evelyn took the verbal hit and ran to the fire exit of the building, a ladder leading down to a metal staircase.

Before she could reach it her destination, a shape blurred in front of her and materialized into another suit, all black, razor sharp nails protruding out of the fingers, ready to fight.

“What…” Evelyn whispered. It had ears reminiscent of a cat, sharp metal embellishments all over. She thought her eyes would bleed just by looking at it

“Winter Soldier, you will pay,” said the suit, a man, African accent of sorts, and angry.

“Does it look like I have a metal arm to you?” Evelyn quipped, trying to diffuse the tension. She opened her palm towards the suit and blasted electricity at him before he jump at her.

When he recovered completely, he still flew at her, and she landed on her back avoiding the tackle but embracing the impact. The hand pulling pack, glinting in the sunlight, and she rolled away in time to avoid the suit’s sharp hands clawing down the asphalt of the roof. Her items offered an uncomfortable pain on her back. Half her coat was ripped to shreds, what bare protection the coat offered for the arc reactor was reduced to half.

“Too cold,” she said, shaking her hand out, still getting used to the arc reactor energy output.

Before she could hit the suit again, Bucky appeared, charging at the suit, face of fury. Another tell that he wasn’t the soldier. His face wasn’t blank.

“Did you just jump out of the building?” she asked, amazed that his legs weren’t broken, working very well as he kicked and scrambled against the black suit.

“ _I told you to stay in your apartment, didn’t I_?” he scolded her in Romanian, but before he could say anything more, he was interrupted when a helicopter came flying by, spraying bullets in their general direction.

“ _And I told you about the jet!_ ” Evelyn retorted.

She reached out and pulled the helicopter’s energy out of the sky, as if pulling on a rope, complete disregard of where it landed. The wings were spinning just from momentum, but the chopper slowed down and careened to the side and into the street, tearing slashes into the building across with the still rotating blades. She heard screaming as it crashed, down past the roof she was on. She didn’t dare look at the carnage.

 _Shit._ Her stomach threatened to release the day’s breakfast and her throat threatened to prevent that. Why’d she do that?

 _Shut up and get moving_. _You can cry in prison._

Evelyn got off her knees, only realizing she had fallen then. She prepared herself to hit the black suit again, but both he and Bucky disappeared over the edge of the roof.

“How,” she muttered running, jumping after them.

She almost bit her tongue off in fear as she landed on a ledge, almost miles off the ground, cars zooming below her, half the people oblivious to the chase, focused on the helicopter crash down the street.

Bucky and the suit were nimbly jumping on ledges, fearless, only concern was each other and not the thousand-foot drop. How ridiculous she found heights daunting when there were much worse things to be afraid of. Like dying in prison.

Still, Evelyn kept her pace on the ledge, hopping with her heart on her throat at another ledge, lining herself up with the chase, constantly muttering “shits” and “okay’s” and “okay shits” under her breath, feeling the thumb drive with every step she took.

Then the two runners jumped off and disappeared into the lower highway.

“Damn it, James!” she screamed after him, but he was miles away, while she was stuck on a ledge.

“Need a ride?” Wilson landed behind her, watching the police cars speed by, watching law enforcement patterns. Evelyn saw Captain speed by.

“On fucking foot,” she muttered, skeptical at the super soldier. “Just get me to a car.”

Wilson laughed, spread his wings, and picked her up from behind. Evelyn found her heart out of her throat and into her mouth now.

Then her feet found earth and traffic was splitting around her.

“Hey, catch,” Wilson tossed an earpiece at her before flourishing his wings and jumping into the air. She put the comms on immediately and it was small, but it hummed to life in her ear.

Along with blood, Captain and Wilson’s voices were pounding in her ears, and her hands were shaking as she watched cars honk at her. She jumped in front of one going slow enough and slapped the hood. She was amazed the car didn’t run her over.

“ _Get the_ fuck _out!_ ” she screamed at the driver in Romanian. She pulled the remnants of her coat open and flashed the arc reactor, flashing it around like a police badge. The exact opposite of what she was and what she could do. _Please think I’m some sort of Iron Man._

The lady’s eyes widened and stumbled out the car. Evelyn sprinted to the side and pushed lady out, then flooring the pedal before she could shut the door.

Why does it feel like she’s done this before? Why does it feel like she loved this?

She had one hand on the wheel, the other stopping cars in front of her, so she weaved between slowing cars, the drivers probably confused as to why their cars weren’t functioning anymore. There were crashes behind her, and Evelyn dared to look in the rearview mirror only to see a pileup happening.

_Shit._

_Just shut up and go. Cry about it later._

“How far behind am I?” she asked to whoever was listening, shaking herself out of her momentary stupor.

“The chase happened yesterday, that’s how far behind you are,” Wilson quipped. “Just pass these cops in front of you and you might pass Cap.”

In that second, Evelyn found herself tailgating the police cars. When there was a space large enough for her to pass, she reached out and pulled the cars’ energy. They all struggled to move forward, and Evelyn sped past, laughing almost maniacally, then the laughing turned into screaming when she swerved away from a car crash in the last second.

“I got them,” she said with a grin.

“And me!” Steve said through the comms. “Car stopped. Thanks, Evelyn.” His words were more bitter than warranted.

Before she could apologize, a loud bang on her car interrupted her sentence, and she found Cap shattering her back window.

“Drive!” she screamed at him. Evelyn moved over to shotgun once Steve grabbed the wheel, maintaining their speed.

“Can you do something about this traffic?” Steve said as he kept swerving against counter traffic.

“Yeah, how about get in the right lane,” Evelyn she had the nerve to quip as she wormed up to the sunroof, her top half outside of the car. She reached her hands out, feeling all the cars in front of them, then pulled energy from as much cars as she could reach, as far as she could see. Time stopped for her as cars slowed to a stop, at least in the next five miles or so.

She dropped back into the car, sitting in the back seat, not really liking the concept of her body being half exposed while Cap violently swerved on the road.

“There he is,” Steve said sternly.

Her eyes were shut for one second when she passed Bucky in a motorcycle on her left on the other lane, the cat suit giving chase on fucking foot. Her hand was pulling energy from cars left and right, her hand crackling with electricity. Evelyn seated herself behind Steve and smashed her elbow on the window, deciding no time could be wasted in pressing the button to roll it down decently.

“Permission to shoot?” she asked.

“Shoot to subdue,” Steve nodded, focused on swerving. They found themselves following the chase from behind, and Evelyn again found herself with half of her out of the car. Didn’t car manufacturers advise against that?

Evelyn tried to blast the cat suit out of proportion with her palm shooting beams like hell, but she missed all of her shots like a Stormtrooper.

“Can’t shoot for shit, Evelyn,” Wilson called in her ear.

“Can’t fly for shit, Sam,” she muttered. Then her eye caught Bucky’s metal arm fling a bomb on the tunnel roof.

“Captain, you better fucking floor it,” Evelyn screamed now, and Steve complied.

The car barely cleared the bomb when it exploded above them. Steve and Evelyn were like-minded when they both threw their doors open when the car skidded sideways. Only when the rubble from the bomb flipped the car over, Evelyn stumbled and saw her life flash before her eyes.

Instead of dying though, Steve grabbed the backpack on her back and threw her forward. At the sentient cat suit.

 _Thank God Cap has terrible aim with people,_ Evelyn thought to herself when she landed a few feet behind suit as it pulled its hand back to claw Bucky’s face out. It was as if she could feel her razor-sharp claws ripping out her organs. Before the cat could find its mark, Steve came running past and tackled.

Evelyn suppressed the need to hurl or cry as she nursed the road burn on her left hand, and got to her feet. Her eyes met Bucky’s, but before she could step forward—

“Stand down, _now_ ,” said a voice. She almost thought it was Tony, and it wasn’t relief that turned her stomach when she thought it was him. It was shame.

Before her stood Rhodes in the War Machine suit, repulsors and artillery aimed at all of them. The Romanian law enforcement surrounded them, joined by who Evelyn assumed was the German terrorist task force stationed in the city. This much electricity around her, Evelyn could get everyone out this tight spot. It was relieving to not be so helpless, to have a plan. She put her hands up, choosing her targets, ready to overload bio-electric activity in the joint with simple hand motions and an arc reactor.

“Congratulations, Cap, you’re a criminal,” Rhodes said, earning an eye roll from Evelyn. Then War Machine turned to her, and she could almost see the look of disbelief on Rhodes’s face, “Tony didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

The corners of her mouth couldn’t help but lift as she made the decision.

(Choose Your Own Adventure Time: What should Evelyn do? If you think she should attack, move to Chapter 14A. If you think she should stand down, move to Chapter 14B.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song for the road: In a Week by Hozier. Again, I thank you warmly from the bottom of my heart for continuing to read this far. It means a lot.


	14. 14A. Ritenuto

Evelyn couldn’t help but smile as her left foot stepped back to stabilize herself before a big overload.

“Oh, none of that,” Rhodes said at her slight movement and out of his left gauntlet flew a chip.

Before Evelyn could react to it, shock it out of the air, or steal its energy, it implanted itself on her jugular. Instinctively, she touched it, and the thing reacted at her proximity. A burst of electricity from the chip, a shock, the pain sending her on one knee, blackening her vision for a split second. There were no curse words for that second of pain that it gave her.

“Evie,” Bucky said, tried to rescue her, but he took one step before the cops threw him on the ground, getting him cuffed.

She panicked at that, at the sight of him, but she panicked at the thing on her neck too. Her fingers reached for it again, but it sent another shock throughout her whole body, electricity cracking, and her fingers pulling away on instinct.

She wanted to speak, to exclaim, to protest, but she could not find the words. It was as if she had forgotten how to speak at all. The world was out of focus now, it was just her and the thing on her neck. For the first time, she was feeling the pain she gave. She was giving it to herself like she had given to countless others. This was her legacy.

Then the chip vibrated against her neck, and Evelyn felt smooth metal forming around her neck branching from the chip. If it shrunk a little more, she would find herself struggling to breathe. Maybe that was the point of it. A looming threat in case she made the wrong move.

But it wasn’t that.

Everything was silent. The buzzing of everyone’s bodies wasn’t a thing that reached her ears, she couldn’t feel Rhodes’s suit pulsing with electricity, the arc reactor on her was nothing but cold dead metal, and she couldn’t feel anyone’s nervous synapses but hers. Everyone was always a part of her world, had pieces of themselves only she could see, but she was alone now. Her stomach turned at that idea, and she resisted with all her strength not to double over and let her body do what it screamed to do.

They didn’t give her a chance to let the gravity of the contraption sink in when they manhandled her, trying to take her backpack off of her. She was glad she put the thumb drive in her shoe, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

“I’m so sorry,” she said when she saw Bucky’s defeated eyes meet hers and watch the backpack off her body, just the look of him shaking her out of her speechlessness.

Tears blurred her vision as Rhodes walked over to deactivate the arc reactor on her chest. She watched the spindly arms shrink back into the compact circle that Tony had first given her. As it fell into Rhodes’s metal hand, her angry eyes met the empty sockets of the iron suit.

While she had the reactor on her for at most 15 minutes, she felt naked without it.

“ _I should’ve listened to you,_ ” Bucky muttered as he was forced on his feet. His broken voice broke her.

The cat suit was frozen on the spot, until his mask came off, metal unlocking from metal.

A young man stood before them, a face of subtle fury plastered on. He eyed Bucky on the ground, the anger in his eyes wanted to kill. Evelyn’s brain clicked, recognizing the face from television. T’Challa, the now Wakandan King. He looked angrier in real life.

Apart from doing crazy shit like Tony advised a week ago, Evelyn also tried to kill the King of Wakanda. Romanian prison was probably the best-case scenario.

“Your Highness,” Rhodes said through his suit. Evelyn would have rolled her eyes had she not been internally panicking about the thing on her neck.

A large armored car drove into the scene, and they walked Bucky closer to it, at least 5 men training their guns on his head, 5 other men pointing everywhere else, with War Machine as an escort. Evelyn thought she would’ve felt their fear, the change in brain activity, just to make her feel better, just to verify that they were all afraid of this whole situation. But she couldn’t. It was all silence.

Once they had their cuffs on her wrists and a stronger collar on her neck, Evelyn was shoved into an armored van. She was seated on the left bench, with three German Task Force agents still aiming their guns at her, though they switched their rifles for handguns. There were two others on each side of her, sitting at a close enough distance so they could immediately restrain her but far enough so their fears of whatever she could do was quelled.

Before they closed the doors on her, Rhodes’s iron suit opened up, revealing his disappointed face.

“What the hell are you doing here, Akari?”

The part of her that the Faraday collar had cut off made her feel empty, and even more alone. Rhodes didn’t care.

She just stared at him, wishing that looks could do more than hurt someone’s feelings.

Evelyn caught a glimpse of Captain and Wilson forced into a van as the doors shut in front of her. Then she was left with the five agents. They were with her, but she was alone.

 

Evelyn woke up to the shaking of the van, then a halt. The doors popped open to reveal bright light, and for a moment, Evelyn wondered if she had died and this was the afterlife. But her eyes adjusted and saw more Task Force agents at the mouth of the van, guns up. Past those agents were more. _There are always more_ , Evelyn thought as she watched agents walk with purpose in and out of her field of vision.

For a moment, she had forgotten where she was. Was this S.H.I.E.L.D. again? What had happened? But the cuffs on her hands and the collar on her neck brought her back. She recalled the van, then the plane, then another van, but this time with German street signs passing through the small windows of the back door.

In an accented Romanian, one of the agents spoke, “Put your hands out where we can see them and calmly exit the van.” The voice was stern, but shaky.

The agent between her and the door slipped out and trained his gun on her with the other three agents outside the van. Evelyn followed suit with her hands as far out in front of her as she could, sliding down the bench and swinging her legs to the end of the van where the guards helped her jump out. Their touch was fleeting, cautious. Were they afraid? Or was this just part of their job.

Her eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the light, but mostly because they were sore. Was she crying in her sleep? If she asked one of these guys attending her, would they give her sorry looks or brush her off with cold indifference?

Someone behind her gave her a slight shove with a point of a gun, indicating to walk. Two more had their hands on her arms, guiding pulling her along.

Evelyn tested her restraints, pulling her wrists apart, but the standard metal cuffs held.

Beside her, she heard the same gruff voice in Romanian, “Try to get out of those shackles and we shoot.”

To her left, she saw a ramp bathed in daylight leading to the surface.

_Underground._

There was a door far ahead labeled “Basement” in English, under that was “Keller.” She assumed it was German. There were elevators next to the label, both up and down buttons were available, people streaming in and out of the doors.

_Ground level was one floor up, presumably. More underground levels._

She would have known how large the building was if she tried hard enough to find the energy consumption and the size of their emergency generator, but the collar itching at her throat choked out more than air out of her.

As Evelyn was escorted through the compound, she watched men and women store their weapons in cabinets, park their vehicles further right to which she couldn’t see past, and carry her belongings past her. She saw Bucky and her backpacks and her arc reactor make their way to the elevator, disappearing behind the sliding doors. Only the incessant discomfort of the thumb drive on the side of her foot was Evelyn's salvation from despair.

“I’m glad you could join us, Ms. Akari,” said an American voice. Evelyn realized she was watching her shoes when she looked up from them to place the voice to a man with graying hair and a three piece that screamed “I’m in charge and I’m stressed about it!”

Standing in front of him was Rogers, Wilson, and the Wakandan King who stared daggers at her as the agents at her elbow stopped her.

Evelyn gave a sardonic smile she instantly regretted, “Glad I could be here.”

The man in charge responded with the same mocking smile, “You won’t be.”

Rogers cleared his throat, “Evelyn, this is Everett Ross, the Deputy Task Force Commander of—”

“The Joint Counter Terrorism Center,” Evelyn interrupted. After seeing the confusion on the faces around her, she said, “Sharon mentioned it.” She nodded at her standing behind Ross.

Steve cleared his throat and looked back at Ross, “What happens now?”

“For you three,” Ross nodded at the three men free of cuffs, “Nothing. But for Barnes, psych eval and extradition.”

Evelyn looked back, and past the agent that stood behind her that prodded her with a gun was Bucky in a glass box with restrains where they could place him. She couldn’t get another second to look at him when the agent moved into her line of sight.

“He doesn’t get a chance to explain, does he? Not even a lawyer? Guilty until proven innocent?” Evelyn said once she turned back at Ross.

The man only scoffed, and nodded at the agents surrounding her, “Take her to IR 3, Sublevel 3.”

Then Evelyn was pulled away from the safety of Captain America’s bubble and escorted into the elevator. Before the doors closed on her, she saw Barnes at the far end of the compound with his head down in shame. She was grateful to be spared of that when the elevator doors closed.

Evelyn memorized the turns that the guards was made when the elevator stopped descending and the doors opened—one immediate left after the door, another after passing two hallways on her right where the doors stopped being labeled, a right after a good minute going in the same direction—but after that, the winding hallways got all jumbled up in her head, she couldn’t keep track.

They stopped in front of a door with “VERN. 3” spray painted on the left cement wall. One agent let go of her right arm and opened the door, and the agent behind Evelyn prodded her into a room with a window and a few chairs lined up.

 _A screening room,_ Evelyn observed as the guards pushed her past and into another door. Finally, she saw the table and two chairs that was common in interrogation rooms. It was hardly a huge space.

 _Big for the interrogator to walk around, small enough not to suggest torture,_ Evelyn observed as they sat her down so she faced the one-way mirror.

“Hands,” the familiar gruff voice said in English. Evelyn lifted her hands, and the agent released her from her cuffs. She was given a brief second to massage her wrists before she was restrained on the cuffs chained to the center of the table.

The guards sat her down and quickly left without a word.

Evelyn spotted the camera on the right corner behind her then another one in front, just above the one-way mirror. She couldn’t tell if they were recording or not. To pass the time and to keep the electrical silence from getting to her, she tried to see through the one-way mirror. If you stared at it long enough, you could eventually see the other side.

But before she could spot the chairs that she knew were watching her, the door burst open and in walked Ross, Stark, and Nat.

Tony was furious behind his shades that probably had F.R.I.D.A.Y. behind them, and Nat was already trying to get a read on her.

_Shit._

“Didn’t you promise you wouldn’t do anything stupid?” Tony didn’t wait to scold her. There was anger there, fumes, but he tried to keep from yelling.

Evelyn immediately tried not to look anyone in the eye, feeling a surge of tears coming as always when someone started yelling.

“Causing massive car pileups, attacking international law enforcement and the fucking King of Wakanda? What the hell are you thinking? That shit you pulled was the kind of crazy shit that I _told_ you not to fucking do!” Tony’s voice crescendoed.

“What the hell were you doing in Bucharest, Evelyn?” Nat said, tone all solemn, a fresh break from Tony’s brashness.

That was a question she couldn’t answer, either. Not specifically, anyway. Evelyn swallowed, hyper-aware of the thumb drive in her shoe, the drive with all the answers, “I can’t.”

Nat stepped closer, her eyes watching her face, “Yes, you can.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes to prevent tears from welling up, “If you’re trying to charmspeak me, it’s obviously not working.”

Nat stepped back, and breathed deeply. That was the first time Evelyn had seen Nat visibly frustrated, even for a little bit for a little while.

“Did Steve put you up to this?” she tried to prod again.

Tony stepped in, angrier than before, “Oh! Another thing! You disappear for a year and then I see you hamming it up with Cap chasing fugitives? What—”

Nat put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

Ross cleared his throat, “Ms. Akari, I’m here to inform you that I will be overseeing your interrogation and psych evaluation. Depending on how this interview goes, you will be extradited where you may or may not await trial.” He said all of that seriously, sincerely, as if he cared about what tortures awaited at whatever country won her release.

Evelyn opened her mouth, but Stark cut her off, “If something sarcastic comes out of your mouth, I swear to _God_ I will—”

“Evelyn, you’re at the hands of the international government, now. Whatever you say from this point will determine if you’ll be shipped back to the States or a Wakandan prison,” Nat interrupted Stark’s empty threat

“What the hell does Wakanda got to do with me?” Evelyn asked. Had she really offended the King that he had grounds to keep her in his prisons?

“We have reason to believe you aided Barnes in the bombing of Vienna,” said Ross. He sounded amused, humoring her, like she had already known this fact. His serious façade was broken by this fleeting moment of lack of professional control.

 _Shit_. “I was in London with Cap and Wilson,” she didn’t use personal names. It was best to separate them from this fray. “And spontaneous combustion isn’t my specialty,” the gravity of the situation finally settled, dropping her voice to a low.

“That doesn’t matter,” Nat said. “Several task force agents could place you on the scene of Barnes’s arrest. That’s enough reason.”

“Plus,” Ross added, “what you did in Bucharest adds more reason of suspicion. I mean, no one really accidentally crashes a helicopter like you did.”

Ross’s addition seemed to make Tony’s head boil. He could barely handle to look at her, and when he did, his face was all wrath and disappointment.

That only made Evelyn’s face burn more. She never wanted to crawl out of her skin more than right now.

“Mr. Ross, Romanoff, can I have a moment with Evelyn here,” Stark requested, his voice not matching the anger on his face. “I promise I won’t try to break Evelyn out.”

Ross looked reluctant to leave, eyes going from Stark to Evelyn, sizing up a potential escape situation.

Stark turned back at them, “You can watch from outside. I just wanted to give Eve here the illusion of privacy.”

Ross pursed his lips and walked out of the cemented room and into the screening room. Nat just gave her a look, like a mother after grounding a child ( _Sit there and think about what you did_ ) before following Ross out of the door.

When the room was silent apart from the buzzing of the lights above, Stark dragged the second chair out from under the table.

“The last time you were in an interrogation room, I was standing on the other side of the glass,” Tony said, not looking up from a spot he picked on the table.

Evelyn wanted to pick a spot on the surface and stare at it to avoid eye contact, but she didn’t. She looked Stark in the face, and tried to smile, only failing. She hid the failure with swallow before he could notice it happened.

“Do you remember that?” he asked innocently.

Evelyn wanted to engage, wanted to humor him, wanted things to be normal, but she couldn’t even muster the nerve to speak. Instead, she chuckled weakly. She didn't remember him. Just Joanna.

Tony looked up from his spot on the table and realized that Evelyn wasn’t going to retort. She hoped he saw the anxiety on her face, the fear of what might happen to Bucky before the day was done.

He sighed, the anger washing out of his face. “Evelyn, if you play this right…” he took a moment to breathe, “you can go home. If you do _exactly_ as I say, your presence in Bucharest could be legal and you’ll be let off with monthly evaluations at the most.”

Evelyn wanted everything to be alright, but nothing could ever be.

“And if I don’t?” she dared ask. She wasn’t smart-mouthing this time; she was exploring her options.

Stark scoffed, and got out of his chair.  “Then Secretary Ross and sheriff-unit-director behind the glass can find ways to make your life a living hell.” He leaned against the one-way mirror and crossed his arms.

Evelyn nodded, but the action seemed out of body. She knew it was what needed to be done, but half of her didn’t want any part of it.

“And Barnes?” she dared to ask.

Tony furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to pull a story out of her with just a look. But he swallowed his curiosity for a moment, “It’s all up to you and Cap. All you have to do is sign the Accords and register.”

A laugh almost rattled out of her, but a frustrated sigh came out “The Accords. Right.”

He took a step to the side, wanting to pace, but he stayed steady, “Did you know the Romanian government wants to prosecute you too? Along with Wakanda and whatever council or committee the United Nations has set up. They all want to rip you to shreds. The Accords are your only chance of getting back to the U.S. Without the Accords, you’d be arrested if you so much as take an unauthorized breath.”

Evelyn looked up at him, “Did you just hear yourself? Didn’t that sound like the Executive Order that put Japanese people in camps just because they were Japanese?”

Tony sighed and put his hands up before Evelyn could get worked up, “That’s not what I’m saying.” Then he muttered, “God, a year apart from my figurative speech and you take everything literally.”

Evelyn opened her mouth to fight, but Tony spoke first, “All I’m saying is that the Accords can protect you from the unauthorized action you just took in Bucharest.”

“It didn’t _have_ to be labeled ‘unauthorized’ if the SOS hadn’t been—”

“Evelyn, I’m trying to help you here,” Stark looked at her intently, as if trying to use his authority to convince her.

He sighed, “Look, Evie, we need you.” He sat down on the interrogator’s chair down on the chair next to her. “You’re an essential part of the team. You and what you can do. You saved our asses in Sokovia and all the other times before that..." he paused, knowing what "other times" meant, "...and you’ll be damn right if you think you’ll save our asses again.”

Evelyn snorted, then shut her eyes to try to erase the thought of Sokovia and of the falling earth and of the other times.

“Point is,” Tony said, seeing the echo of the trauma hit her, continued, “If you don’t sign the Accords, you can’t save our asses anymore. And we don’t want to lose you. If you don’t sign it, there’ll be harsh consequences for what you did today.”

Her chest was suddenly heavy at his facts. She thought her own ethics that she placed for herself was enough to keep her in line. She promised she would never take another human’s electrical energy. That was a line she thought she would never cross, but she crossed the mass-murder-manslaughter-massive-inconvenience-to-human-kind line today at Bucharest. She didn’t think there would need to be such a line, since it was already a default. She wasn’t any better than the forces she and the Team had tried to defeat. Were the Accords the only thing that could stop her now? Had she lost control?

(Choose Your Own Adventure: If Evelyn should sign the Accords, move to Chapter 15B. If you think she shouldn’t, move to Chapter 15A.)


	15. 14B. Subito Forzando

Evelyn smiled sarcastically, but kept her hands up. She felt that if she moved, those guns surrounded and trained on them would fire. Steve would put his shield up for James, but a lot can happen in between.

She remained still when Rhodes clanked his way to her and took the arc reactor. She remained still when he outfitted her with a Faraday collar only he had the key to, one that had stronger properties than the bracelet in her pocket so she was essentially choked out. She even remained still as the task force shoved Bucky to the ground and held him down, and she let them manhandle her backpack off her and almost break her arms to cuff her hands behind her back. Steve was cuffed too, and Sam Wilson emerged from the darkness of the tunnel as guns pushed him forward. They were done.

 

* * *

 

 

Evelyn had been pushed into an armored car, then pushed into a plane, out of the plane and then into the backseat of another armored truck with cuffs tight in her wrist and the thought of Bucky was strangling the hell out of her.

There was no escape with the Faraday collar. She was powerless. If somehow Sam beside her managed to break the collar off her, and the King of Wakanda lets them escape from the van, they’d probably get shot down the moment they step out. Steve couldn’t protect her; the last vehicle change warranted a change of wardrobe, and his shield was gone. If she could somehow miss the bullets, where was Bucky? How’d she get him out? The last time she saw him, he was being locked up in a heavy duty containment cage with restraints he couldn’t get out of without three shots of adrenaline and rage. If she somehow managed to get him out of the cage, he’d get shot down. No matter how she played it from this point, they’d eventually get shot down.

Wilson sat beside her with a deep frown and eye rolls every 5 seconds, just as upset at their defeat.

“You should’ve told us sooner,” Steve muttered as they sat him down in front of her, T’Challa beside Steve.

They were together for the first time since their arrest, since they forced each other on different parts of the plane. Even Bucky had a plane all to himself.

“Like I said, it wasn’t up to me to tell you,” Evelyn said, wanting to run her hands over her face but remembered it was cuffed to the back of Steve’s chair, like some twisted roller coaster.

“Almost two years of my life, gone,” Wilson said, sighing. She stretched her foot. They hadn’t found the thumb drive when they searched her. Almost two years in that drive.

The car began moving. Evelyn could hear the sirens as they started speeding up. Were they behind Bucky’s car, or was he behind them? It didn’t matter. She was powerless.

“70 years of Bucky’s gone, too,” her voice came out squeaking.

Then a defeated silence settled over them all.

“You don’t happen to have an escape plan, do you?” Evelyn dared to ask.

“If we skipped all that chasing and that shooting, this would’ve been part of the plan anyway,” Wilson said, almost defeated.

Evelyn froze, “What?”

Steve froze with her, and Wilson seemed to shrink beside her without changing size at all.

“Back at the complex, there was no extraction plan, was there? This was your extraction plan?” Evelyn demanded, grabbing the rail that her cuffs were chained to.

“My stepping in was the only way people wouldn’t die, Evelyn,” Steve scolded. “This situation was out of our hands once the Accords were signed. It was out of our hands even before this started.”

She leaned back against her chair, “The fucking Accords.”

She killed people back at the apartment complex. At least, she thinks so. She didn’t bother to check if the falling chopper killed anyone. _Shit._ It clicked now that the Accords were for her, those like her. Reckless murderers.

Steve broke the silence that her anger left in its wake, “What are you doing here, Evelyn?”

She scoffed, “If I had a choice, Cap, I wouldn’t be.” She kept the corners of her mouth from giving her away.

“How long have you been there? How long have you known?” his tone was accusing. It was the question he’d probably been desperate to ask. The question that was default with the mission that Fury had assigned.

Evelyn stuttered, unable to choose between the truth and the lie. For the first time in a long time, Evelyn had nothing to say.

“Cat got your tongue?” T’Challa smirked.

“The way that you walked into that apartment. The way you treat each other. How long?” Steve’s voice didn’t need to be raised to sound furious. He used his voice as Captain now.

She stayed silent. She thought of all the chances she could have told him about finding his best friend and how Fury’s classification duct taped her mouth shut most of those time. The rest was Bucky’s desperate request to go back to Steve the right way. Every interaction with Rogers was a pang of guilt since finding Barnes.

Rogers sighed, fumes coming out of his breath, “Back with Ultron and Sokovia, did you know then?”

The air was cold; she was shivering now. Or maybe she was just shaking from the question.

“Yes,” Evelyn said, her voice small from her tight throat. She wondered what Fury would say, what Hill would say, when they found out she had basically ratted them out. “Since I moved out.”

Steve shifted in his seat at the new information.

“Little clues between then would’ve been real nice,” Wilson said, unbelieving, irritated.

Evelyn leaned her head back, feeling the vibration of the van against the pavement. She didn’t answer.

“When did you find him?” Steve asked, more pressing, angrier, craning his neck to get a look at her. She refused to look at anyone.

“Not that long,” she said. “Two weeks tops since assignment.”

Sam writhed in his seat in annoyance, but Steve was as still as calm water. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew disappointment from his shoulders.

“You can stop right there,” he said, quietly. He wanted to hear more, but they weren’t alone in the van. If there was any chance out of this, confessing to aiding and abetting a known fugitive in front of a king who wants vengeance would take everything away. It chilled Evelyn, really, that Steve chose that chance over his want for answers. Protocol over selfishness. It wasn’t a surprise since Sarah.

“So, you like cats?” Wilson broke the silence of Evelyn’s thought. She was glad for the change in subject, albeit odd.

“Sam,” Steve scolded, sounding like his nerve was about to break. Evelyn and Wilson were children.

“What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don’t wanna know more?” Wilson retorted, almost annoyed.

“Your suit. Vibranium?”

T’Challa sighed a breath of exasperation, “The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations, a mantle passed from warrior to warrior. And now because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king. So, I ask you, as both warrior and king, how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?”

That turned Evelyn’s stomach, but she bit her tongue.

“With all due respect your Highness, you’re wrong. James didn’t do Vienna,” she wanted to say. She wanted to confess right then, absolve of Bucky of everything, say that he did everything but Vienna, but she wasn’t even there. Why should he believe her?

Before she could draw blood from her tongue, the van had slowed to a stop. She would have if she could sense the slowing of the engine, the short dying of the battery as the radios and lights were turned off. But it was all silence.

The door slid open, and they were showed out. She was uncuffed from the seats, and then her hands from each other. She saw the open air of the opening of the underground garage, the sunlight, and the instinct was to run. And she did. Gods, that could have been the last time she’d have control over herself. She managed to bypass a few agents on the way to the sunlight with a few elbows and attacks only S.H.I.E.L.D. had taught her. She could feel the thumb drive in her foot. _Free the drive. Run for the drive._ She heard Steve screaming “Don’t shoot!” but before a firefight could ensue, a force that knocked her to the ground, and she was eyelevel with combat boots surrounding her.

Evelyn’s hands went to her back again, and cuffed. She was picked up off the floor, and she saw Sharon, casually dressed, as if she tackled strangers on her regular walks at the park.

Sharon had a tight grip on her arm and her hands as she guided her back beside Steve and Sam. They stood before the biggest guy in the place if Evelyn measured by look of authority. His suit screamed “in charge”, and his blonde hair graying for a guy looking so young screamed “stress”.

“You don’t seem to be very good at running,” the man said, a smirk on his face.

Evelyn frowned, “You should see me without this collar.”

The woman that held her spoke, “This Everett Ross, deputy task force commander.”

A raucous clanging was happening behind them, and there was a fearful tension in the voices speaking that Evelyn didn’t need her powers to tell.

With some resistance form the blond woman, she turned to see Bucky, heavily restrained with metal clasps, in a chair in a glass cage.

 _Shit_.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Steve voiced her thoughts.

The guy in charge spoke with full control over his authority, lording his smugness over them, “Same thing that ought to happen to you. Psychological evaluation and extradition.”

Bucky met her eyes, and they both looked away, trying not to come to terms with all their mistakes.

“What about our lawyer?” Steve said.

Evelyn scoffed, “Under the Accords, we probably don’t get lawyers. And we _did_ demolish a good part of Bucharest.”

“There you go,” said Ross with a smile. “Lock their weapons up,” he said to whoever was listening.

She saw her arc reactor go past her, along with Wilson’s wings and Cap’s shield. Her and Bucky’s backpacks were the rear end of the parade.

Ross saw their longing faces, “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get a receipt.”

“Can I get my hands in front of me? I have a bad clavicle,” Evelyn requested as Sharon guided her forward, the grip she held really did pain her left shoulder. But she was ignored as they shoved her into the elevators along with Sam, Steve, and the king. She caught sight of Bucky before the gates closed on either one of them.

He broke her. He really did.

The guards led them through a glass bridge over water, a sight Evelyn would have enjoyed if she wasn’t drowning in silence.

“Good news. You get an office.”

“Yes, and do me a favor and stay in it,” Ross called out to no one in particular.

“Don’t worry, sheriff unit director,” Evelyn quipped. “This is a nice piece of real estate, wouldn’t want to leave the premises if you made me. How much are you selling it for?”

Ross chuckled behind her, annoyed, “Hiding behind wit won’t really solve your problems, Miss Akari, so I suggest you come to terms with that now.”

“How do you know who I am again?” Evelyn asked. “Didn’t think I was that famous.”

Ross scoffed, “Colonel Rhodes informed me of your presence, and your status.”

“As a fugitive?”

“As a danger.”

Before Evelyn could spit out a sloppy response at the truth, Nat was walking towards them, business on her face. You would’ve thought she was coming to beat all of them up with the pep to her step.

“Evelyn, what the hell are you doing here?” Nat said once she got close enough. There was a look of disappointment in her face. She hid it well under that professionalism.

 _Don’t act like you care,_ she wanted to say. “Wanted to surprise you,” was her reply replied, the energy gone out of her voice. She was tired now, just show her to her room for the rest of her life.

Nat turned to Steve as she walked with them, “You managed to make things much worse than I thought.”

“That’s my nickname, Nat. ‘The Fucking Worst,’” Evelyn said, staring vigilantly forward. “Just ask Sharon with her iron grip. As the worst, I’d probably jump through the glass given the chance.”

“What did I tell you not to do, Steve?” Nat asked rhetorically, wanting to say “I told you so.” Evelyn knew the tone all too well.

“At least he’s alive,” Steve responded, gravely.

The guards led them through three more sets of doors with security clearance requirements. In a heartbeat, Evelyn could’ve made those doors do what she wanted given time with the building’s system.

Evelyn was just about to ask to have her hands cuffed in front of her again when a voice droning on a phone hit her ears. She froze in her step, everyone else shuffled around her and turned right at the open doors.

Stark was in there.

Nat brushed past her, then turned around, seeing Evelyn’s face. “I got it from here, Sharon.” She said, and Sharon let her go and walked into the place where Stark was.

“Scared of dad?” Nat asked, an amused light in her eyes.

Evelyn wanted to get all excited, tell him about the arc reactor, but her shame froze her. Did she want to meet his fury? He did tell her not to do foolish things, did he not? She used his tech to try to kill the King of Wakanda. She let him down.

An itch at her throat. She tried to speak confidently, but it came out a squeak, “He’s not my—”

“You’ll be okay. Just don’t do anything stupid,” she said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I spent all my stupid back in Bucharest, Nat,” Evelyn amused her for a second.

Evelyn wanted to stay where she stood, die there, maybe, but she used Nat’s impersonal hand on her shoulder to push her into the room.

On instinct, Stark turned his head, who had just finished scolding Captain and Wilson.

“Here comes the grounding,” Wilson muttered to Captain, who elbowed him in the ribs.

They stood where they stood for a few seconds, staring at each other. Tony had his glasses on. On a good day, Evelyn would’ve pointed out they were inside. But with hard look on Tony’s face, it wasn’t really a good day.

Nat left her side before Tony’s fury could hit her.

Then he opened his mouth, “Didn’t you promise you wouldn’t do crazy shit?”

Evelyn’s legs could’ve gave that moment, but instead she tried to smile, “Didn’t you promise everything will be okay?”

Stark scoffed and swaggered towards her, “Uh, yeah, on the condition that you didn’t do crazy shit. But causing massive car pileups and attacking law enforcement and the fucking King of Wakanda _kind of_ classifies as crazy shit, and here everything is.” He held up his hands, showing the room around, “Definitely not okay.”

The room was swarming with agents and soldiers, mission control screens flashing at the far distance, phones ringing, voices with authority everywhere. This was the last place okay would be.

Evelyn’s face burned even more with shame. She could just burst into flames at the spot. She’d rather have that happen than spend a minute with Tony disappointed at her.

Tony glanced at arms bent hidden behind her back, then looked away immediately. Evelyn saw a glint of panic in his eyes before disappearing.

“Who cuffed you in the first place?” he muttered. “Who cuffed her? I want a name,” he called out to the room.

“You’re letting some handcuffs stop you, I thought you were better than that,” Stark said, motioning her closer while pulling out a lock pick.

“Of course, you have a lock pick in your pocket,” she said to him as she stepped closer and offered her hands, avoiding his eyes.

He snorted, “From the way that you’ve been acting today, I’m predicting arrests with a chance of me pulling strings to get you out of prison. So, yeah, I’m going to bother with a lock pick.”

The metal clinked in Evelyn’s wrists and her chafing wrists were free.

She muttered a “thanks” under her breath, minimal sound, pride levels to the maximum.

“Cheap metal handcuffs. You’d think they could come up with something better for you. Can we keep this? Put it in a glass box?” Stark held up the links. “Evelyn’s first _and last_ foreign arrest.”

“Last because I can’t cross borders anymore, can I?” she dared breach the subject.

Tony stared at her in disbelief, “You’re grounded.”

Wilson gasped in the back, “Shit, he actually did it.”

Evelyn cackled, “Uncle Sam already beat you to it. Or is there an international version for that?”

Tony rolled his eyes and pulled her into the office that was her cell and shut the glass doors, “You can’t argue with me on this, Evie, it’s already been passed. Yelling at me won’t change a thing.”

“I wasn’t arguing, I was just stating facts,” Evelyn sat on an office chair, crossing her arms.

“In form of sarcasm, which is _totally_ begging for an argument,” he said, frowning, pacing the room small space now. “I am not having an argument about whether or not we’re having a fucking argument right now.”

They stared at each other, letting the fumes settle.

Then Tony ran his hands through his face, rubbing his eyes, “Look, the government is going to regulate us, whether you like it or not. What’s done is done, okay?”

Evelyn’s eyes blurred, and her nose itched, predicting a cry coming on, “There must’ve been something we could’ve done.”

Tony shook his head, “117 countries signed it already. There was no way to stop this from happening.”

He took one look at her face and looked away. “Shit, Eve, stop looking at me like that,” he muttered.

He sat down and wheeled his seat close to her, “Listen. These Accords don’t change a thing if you behave, okay? Sure, the government will know who you are, and where you could go, but that’s just paperwork, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen. They won’t take you, they won’t lock you up and throw away the key. Not while I’m here. You follow, Eve?”

She snorted, but she stayed silent. At that, he only sighed exasperatedly.

“Secretary of State wants you three prosecuted,” Tony said, nodding at Wilson and Steve standing outside the office, who quickly looked away once they realized Tony and Evelyn were watching them.

“And he wants you to sign the Accords and register as an Enhanced immediately, as in right now, here at knock-off Interpol,” Tony said, stuffing more words into the sentence as if to soften the blow.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Evelyn said, standing up. “Sign the Accords or live with this collar forever?”

He rolled his eyes, “Ross’ll decide if that comes off. It’s out of my hands. Besides, it’s just a grunge version of your bracelet. You’ll live.”

 

Then he sighed, stting down on the chair next to her, “Evie, we need you. You’re an essential part of the team. You and what you can do. You saved our asses in Sokovia, and you’ll be damn right if you think you’ll save our asses again.”

Evelyn snorted, then shut her eyes to try to erase the thought of Sokovia and of the falling earth.

“Point is,” Tony said, seeing the echo of the trauma hit her, continued, “We built the Avengers with you in it. What are we without you?”

Evelyn closed her eyes again, stretching her neck. Then she stretched her foot, the thumb drive digging itself into her flesh. But she knew what she wanted to do since she got here, she just needed to say it out loud.

(Choose Your Own Adventure: If Evelyn should sign the Accords, move to Chapter 15B. If you think she shouldn’t, move to Chapter 15A.)


	16. 15A. Affettuoso

Evelyn couldn’t bear the charged silence, but she swallowed it down anyway.

“You didn’t sign?” Sam said, casually, as if talking about the weather. He was pacing around the room, watching the JCTC agents walk past and sit down and stare at graphics on their computers.

“No, obviously,” Evelyn tried to smile, but her mouth wavered. She watched the outside through the glass too, but focused on the front, where most of the buzz was. Ross was coordinating his team, setting up a spread of cameras on Bucky. T’Challa was there too, sitting, brooding, probably murdering Bucky with his eyes. She couldn’t see.

Tony looked back once in a while with a combination of disappointment and hope, as if anticipating she’d want to sign the Accords with every turn of his head. Evelyn couldn’t look him in the eye though. She couldn’t look anyone in the eye right now, so she only stared at the screens of Bucky’s glass cage and roller coaster restraints.

“Right, right,” he said.

Steve stayed silent, and she could see him brooding at the corner of her eye.

“So, what now?” Sam finally settled, sitting on one of the office chairs.

“What was your assignment?” Steve spat out, voice restrained but almost furious. He looked up from the table and met eyes with her.

“I know you want to know, but I can’t. Not here,” Evelyn didn’t miss a beat. She didn’t give the smart-ass answer, _I was in Romania, everyone knew that._

“What was it?” but Steve didn’t relent.

“Steve, I—”

“ _Evelyn._ ”

He was never like this with anyone, but she’d seen this look and heard this voice before. She saw the same look he had in every memory. That determination always clouded everything else in his eye, through fire and flood, and even after the fall from the train.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she was. Steve lost Bucky too early, and HYDRA’s new rise seemed to rub it in his face. This was the least she could do.

Steve’s face softened at that, but he remained stoic.

“My reassignment after Joanna,” she said, almost stuttering at the name she had loved to say. “And S.M.”

“This was it?” his voice was tender, almost broken.

She nodded, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. She should have told him the moment Fury handed her that folder. After all she’d been through with Steve in that _other_ place, this should have been easy to say, easy to divulge.

“Yeah,” her voice was barely a whisper, but not because of the fear of being bugged. “Leonid had an indefinite location. Gave me the file, thought I could take him in.”

“Or take him out,” Steve said, crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair.

Evelyn nodded. “If he was still working for the Big H. And only I could handle him.”

“So, what happened? What you got with Barnes is far from what the assignment sounded like it required,” Sam cut in, sober, but a glint of mischief in his eye.

She pushed past the flush on her face and laid her hands out on the table, palms up, then saw the black inhibitor on her wrist.

“The brain is made up of 100 billion electricity firing neurons,” Evelyn said, retracting her hands from the table top.

Her own bracelet never silenced what she could see and feel, it just kept outside sources of energy out of her body. It was a safeguard against the panic and the fear that would suck up everything near her. It never put a blindfold on her and threw her out into the ocean with a cinderblock chained to her leg.

She didn’t say that out loud. She deserved it, the way she recklessly used her powers, the arc reactor. Evelyn had ethics in place for herself when she promised she would never take another human’s energy. That was a line she thought she would never cross, but she crossed the mass-murder-manslaughter-massive-inconvenience-to-human-kind line today with the car accidents. She didn’t think there would need to be such a line, since it was already a given. She felt like a villain. It turned her stomach to feel like a villain.

She cleared her throat, “I got good enough to operate at that level. And my cover with the University that Hill set up helped.”

There was a silence as Steve and Sam tried to make sense of everything.

“Then the Accords happened. Then Vienna,” her throat clamped up. She wasn’t sure, but she was. James was at a predisposition to do it because he’d already done something like it, and more than once. But he was with her, she was with him, the whole time, since the beginning, it was just them two and HYDRA in his mind.

“Did he do it?” Steve asked the question that’s been in the air since Bucharest.

“Of course not,” she said, she was sure, she was sure, she was sure. She wasn’t with him, but she was sure. So sure, that she’d go to jail over being sure.

“They won’t believe her. They hardly believe you, and you’re the truth incarnate,” Sam said to Steve, frowning. He got up and started pacing again.

“They think I’m an accessory,” she sighed. “I have motive.”

Then the hustle outside the office seemed to settle as another man joined Bucky in the several monitors at the center of the hub. Evelyn stood, desperate to watch and to hear. She almost pressed her nose to the glass.

Evelyn’s fingers moved to try to get the AV in the office, but she only remembered how quiet everything was and how heavy the air pressed against her skin. She wanted to scream, but she only let her nails dig in to her palm.

Tony looked back again, and she felt the anger surge to her face. He quickly turned away.

“A receipt for your gear,” Evelyn heard a voice.

The blonde woman, Sharon, was in the office now and a paper was on the table.

“‘Bird costume?’” Sam said, outraged.

Sharon shrugged, “I didn’t write it.”

Evelyn pulled herself away from the glass and snatched the paper from Sam’s hands. “My backpack.” It was on the list along with her arc reactor and Steve and Sam’s suits. “What does this mean?”

“It means the notebooks won’t be touched until it’s decided who gets to read it first,” Sharon said. “Romania, Wakanda, Germany, Austria, and the US all are fighting for a peek.”

“But they’re all going to read it, one time or another, aren’t they?”

Sharon nodded gravely, “But if everything goes well, Barnes and your notebooks will be transferred to the US.”

“And if it doesn’t go well?” Evelyn dared ask.

“Let’s hope things go well,” she said, pursing her lips.

Evelyn should have been okay with it. There was a thumb drive in her shoe with everything they've ever done for the past year and a half. But the notebooks were personal. It told of everything in between the lines. The drive was just code. The notebooks were Bucky.

_Shit._

Sharon looked around for anyone watching them, then pressed a few buttons on the conference call control at the center of the table.

The monitor switched on, and the voices were audible.

But it was like she was the only one paying attention to it.

“Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?” Steve looked down at a picture of what looked like Bucky in a big foot style pose.

Sharon shrugged, “Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?”

“Right. It’s a good way to flush a guy out of hiding,” Steve suggested.

Her heart stopped, and her feet started, pacing around the room. “Someone wants him,” she observed, still pacing, mind racing.

There were cold trails. Even if whoever was looking for Bucky caught the scent of Eastern Europe HYDRA exposures, they’d run out of leads to follow. The lengths that Evelyn had to go, her final resort, Peruvian 084, replicating energy readings, were lengths no one could possibly follow.

“Getting him caught was the only way to find him,” Evelyn said, mind still racing. She watched everything else harder. All the passing faces, all the hand movements, all the monitors. And Bucky. She couldn’t see his face well, but his hands were gripping their rests and his head was turned away from the psychiatrist.

“ _You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?_ ” said the shrink, his voice coming through the speakers all crackly.

“And they have,” Steve said, looking at Sharon with his eyes in deep thought.

“ _I don’t want to talk about it,_ ” Bucky said.

 _Shit._ That was defeat in his voice, and frustration, almost childlike. Evelyn’s heart was in her throat again. God, he killed her.

 “ _You feel that, if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop,_ ” said the shrink, penning things down, even though his patient hasn’t said much of worth. Evelyn saw Bucky writhe in his seat, it was minimal, but she saw it. She just wanted it to stop.

“They just need to get to him,” Evelyn realized. All of them in that little glass room seemed to realize at the same time.

 _Shit._ Evelyn felt her feet moving before she realized what she was doing, thumb drive and all.

Steve stood from his chair, “Evie, don’t—”

The cool air of the rest of the hub hit her as she pushed the glass door open.

“Who is that? Who’s the shrink?” she demanded from anyone who listened, almost stumbling down the steps and running to the mass of people at the monitors.

Everett Ross lifted his head from the monitor he was looking at, and Nat and Tony turned to look at her like outraged parents. There was a varying chorus of “get back in that office or so help me” from the three of them, and she felt task force agents pull at her elbows.

But before they could pull Evelyn away from the monitors and chain her to a chair, the video feed went out and the emergency lights started flashing, alarms blaring.

_Shit. Was that me?_

The hands gripping her elbows shoved her down into the floor and there was a knee on her back. For a moment, she thought she deserved it. She left the office, she didn’t comply with orders, her abilities gave her the predisposition to knock a building out of power.

But Evelyn looked at her wrist as someone held it down in front of her face. Her bracelet still tight on it, everything still silent. And she didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t do anything wrong.

Ross was scrambling now, commanding his underlings on their dead computers. Then he crouched beside her, kneeling to meet her eyes. He was furious, “Did you do this?”

She stopped squirming under the knee, and frowned. She looked at the bracelet on her wrist between them “I’m proofed as hell, sir,” she said with as much venom as she could.

The weight crushing her was suddenly lifted as Ross barked off his goons and redirected them to the lower floors. Evelyn picked herself up from the floor in the flashing red lights and tried to get her senses together, trying not to cry from the tackle. She can’t cry yet. She had to get to Bucky. Something’s happened.

She was frozen in her spot, unsure of the situation. She looked back at Captain for orders, but the glass office was empty.

_Shit._

Then Evelyn saw Nat and Tony tail after Sharon.

_Stay here or go. Stay here or go, fucking decide now._

(Proceed to "16: Boot Up," skip "15B: Agitato.")


	17. 15B. Agitato

From the harm that she did, Evelyn wanted to be stopped. The government had the power here.

So, she nodded, “I’ll sign it.”

Stark looked up from his shoes, “Did I just hear you correctly?”

The laugh she was holding in came out of her mouth, preventing the tears she didn’t know were welling up from falling, “Oh, god, can I take it back?”

 

* * *

 

 

So, there she was in the interrogation room, sitting in silence for what felt like years, trying to find relief in the tightness of the handcuffs. A full five minutes passed when Sharon walked in and flashed a key. Stark stood at the door, watching.

Evelyn stood in surprise and held her hands out, “What took you so long?”

Sharon smiled, “You’d have to ask Ross for that.”

Stark cut in, “You did the right thing, Evelyn.”

"What about the interrogation? Psych eval?" she recalled Ross's words.

Sharon shrugged, "Scare tactics, I think." Then she stepped aside and pointed at Evelyn with her hands, indicating for Stark to approach.

“Oh, right,” he said and fumbled around his pockets and pulled out a matte black bracelet. He pressed his thumb flat on it, and the gadget beeped in submission, splitting itself in two halves.

“Out of the pan, and into the fire,” Stark said. “Give me your hand.”

Evelyn held out her wrist, “I was starting to like the choker. My favorite part is how it digs into my skin and makes me want to die.”

He snorted, “It’s a prototype.” He combined the halves once her wrist was in. It clicked closed, but Evelyn felt as if it dug her deeper into the hole of electrical silence.

“Prototype means work in progress means you’re working on more of this?” Evelyn asked, clearly baffled.

Stark sighed, “Ever since Wanda and the thing with Banner, I felt like everyone needed safety precautions.”

Her own bracelet never silenced what she could see and feel, it just kept outside sources of energy out of her body. It was a safeguard against the panic and the fear that would suck up everything near her. It never put a blindfold on her and threw her out into the ocean with a cannonball chained to her leg.

She didn’t try to tell Tony that. She deserved it, the way she recklessly used her powers, the arc reactor. Evelyn had ethics in place for herself when she promised she would never take another human’s energy. That was a line she thought she would never cross, but she crossed the mass-murder-manslaughter-massive-inconvenience-to-human-kind line today with the car accidents. She didn’t think there would need to be such a line, since it was already a given. She felt like a villain. It turned her stomach to feel like a villain.

He pressed his thumb against the collar on her neck, and it clicked open. It should have been a relief to have it off, but she still felt nothing from the room that used up massive amounts of electricity and the tons of bodies walking around with perfect brain activity.

“But I don’t go green and uncontrollably angry, do I? Or have I been doing that in my sleep?”

“I wouldn’t know, you’ve been away for a year,” Stark said. “And anyway, the U.N. would want a safeguard against you if you go rogue.”

"I came back for Christmas," Evelyn stared at him. She wanted to be shocked at this revelation, but after Bucharest, she supposed his intentions were in the right place.

“It’s only temporary,” Tony said, spotting the trepidation on her face.

Sharon, silent during that exchange, cleared her throat, “If you could follow me, please. I’ll take you upstairs where you’ll sign the Accords and register as an Enhanced individual.”

She walked, and so did Evelyn, Stark falling in beside her.

“Registration. That was mentioned,” Evelyn said.

“It’s part of the Accords. I think they’re just drawing blood and taking fingerprints today,” Sharon said without turning around.

“Is that all?” Evelyn asked.

Stark smiled smugly, “I don’t think they have the equipment to assess your threat level here. That’ll be back in the States.”

“What does that mean?” Evelyn asked. She couldn’t help but be afraid at what the assessment meant.

But Stark shrugged, “I don’t know. That’s what Ross 1 and Ross 2 agreed upon.”

They entered the elevator, where the Sharon pressed 3 and Stark pressed 5.

When the doors parted for the third floor, Stark said, “Don’t worry, Sharon, she’s only dangerous if you provoke her.”

But the agent only turned and smiled as she stepped out of the elevator. Evelyn followed, looking anxiously back at Stark, who only gave grin and a thumbs up. The lack of fear in Sharon’s eyes as Evelyn neared her was more comforting than Stark.

Before the doors closed and Sharon walked briskly to their destination, Stark called out, “Don’t pick fights!”

As Evelyn followed Sharon through more hallways, she thought to herself, _Fights pick me._

 

* * *

 

 

Sharon escorted Evelyn to the Hub, as she called it, still in silence. Evelyn stared at the blue marks on all her fingers from when they collected her prints. They were reminiscent of the blue crackling of electricity if she held it in her hand. No, they weren’t reminiscent, just both blue. Nothing like each other at all.

“They informed me that the UN approved psychologist for Barnes just arrived,” said Sharon as they walked into the elevator.

 _Shit. It’s happening._ Evelyn’s heart dropped as the elevator went up. She didn’t think her panic could get any worse, but it did.

“Are you guys keeping my backpack?” Evelyn asked. The best thing she could do for Bucky now was to keep his things safe. Breaking him out wasn’t an option anymore.

“Depends what’s in the notebooks,” Sharon said.

The notebooks. Bucky was always writing after each recovery session and sometimes after he zoned out for a second. She never asked because she felt he didn’t want to talk about it. She saw enough of what he saw anyway. And he told her more. She told him to write, so if the government had access to his deepest and darkest memories, it would her fault and her fault only.

 _Shit_. Now she really had to get it back. The thumb drive full of code in her shoe would never replace those notebooks.

“They’re my diaries,” Evelyn lied.

Sharon shrugged, “The government’s going to go through every single page before it gets back to you.”

_Shit. Speaking of not doing crazy shit, just lie to a government official, will you?_

“That was off record,” Sharon said, somehow sensing Evelyn’s panic. “You didn’t tell me anything.”

“I don’t think I’m getting it back,” she resolved.

“Probably not,” Sharon said, handing her a piece of paper as the elevator doors opened.

There was an official header at the top for the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre with the logo and everything.

“We’re in Berlin?” Evelyn spotted the location underneath the big title. They were crossing the glass bridge over the river now.

“Affirmative,” Sharon smiled.

“I was born here, so I’ve been told,” Evelyn said, stopping to see the sight she was given. The river was below her and buildings past that, a mixture of modern and ancient. Evelyn wished she could place the architecture time period or recognize what part of the city they were in like she was some native here. But Berlin was just another place to her, just where it all started. That was all the extent of her earliest childhood she knew of besides the adoption before S.H.I.E.L.D.

Sharon stopped with Evelyn and watched her stare into the distance in silence. Before she could say anything of comfort, Evelyn snatched her attention back to the paper.

“What’s this?” she said, walking now, waving off Berlin. The document had four main rows to it, two of them containing Evelyn’s things.

“A receipt for your things,” Sharon said. “In summary, those notebooks won’t be touched until the countries fighting for Barnes’s prosecution decides who gets to read it first. Romania, Wakanda, Germany, Austria, and the US are contenders for it.”

“But they’re all going to read it, one time or another, aren’t they?”

Sharon nodded gravely, “But if everything goes well, Barnes and your notebooks will be transferred to the US.”

“And if it doesn’t go well?” Evelyn dared ask.

“Let’s hope things go well,” she said, pursing her lips.

Evelyn handed her back the document as Sharon escorted her back into the mission control room.

“Where is it being kept?” Evelyn asked. How ballsy can she fucking get?

Sharon laughed, “Can you sound anymore suspicious?”

 _Shit._ She wanted to take her question back. The government Sharon will definitely report it to her superiors that the notebooks are something of worth. _Shit._ They know nothing about the contents of Bucky’s things, but if he wanted to run from authorities that much to protect it, then it was something to them.

_Shit._

Sharon led her into a room was with agents and soldiers, mission control screens flashing at the far distance, phones ringing, voices with authority everywhere. Evelyn saw a glass office where Captain and Wilson sat, watching monitors in there.

The mission control monitors on the other side of the room were displaying Bucky in his containment cell all different angles. Naturally, Evelyn gravitated towards the monitors, and she landed beside Stark.

Bucky had his head against the chair, shifting under his excessive restraints.

“What twisted roller coaster…” muttered Evelyn. Jesus, he killed her. He looked so tired, so worried, plagued. The restraints didn’t exactly help the image.

He didn’t belong in that cage.

“Hey, how was it? Any probing happening?” Tony said beside her, not taking his eyes off the monitors.

“Nothing disturbing. Like that lady said, fingerprints and blood work,” she said, eyes kept on Bucky. _Shit._ She should’ve stayed in the apartment. She should’ve picked up Tony’s calls the night before to get an earlier warning. “Threat level assessment after deportation to the U.S.”

“Sounds a _tad_ better than foreign jail,” he said, turning to look at her.

Evelyn stayed silent.

“Psychologist just got here,” Tony said, pointing at the man sitting in front of Bucky. “Haven’t started questioning yet.”

“ _Do you know where you are, James?_ ” the psychiatrist’s voice came through the speakers, a foreign accent coming through.

Evelyn’s skin itched at how the shrink said his name like they were having a friendly conversation.

“ _You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?_ ” said the shrink.

“ _I don’t want to talk about it,_ ” Bucky said.

 _Shit._ That was defeat in his voice, and frustration, almost childlike. Evelyn’s heart was in her throat again. God, he killed her.

“ _You feel that, if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop,_ ” said the shrink, penning things down, even though his patient hasn’t said much of worth.

Evelyn saw Bucky writhe in his seat, it was minimal, but she saw it. She just wanted it to stop.

“ _Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one._ ”

At those words, the feed went out and the emergency lights started flashing, alarms blaring.

 _Shit. Was that me?_ Evelyn looked at her wrist, bracelet still tight on it, everything still silent. Tony had the same idea and grabbed her wrist, verifying it was working.

Ross was scrambling now, commanding his underlings on their dead computers. Then he spotted Evelyn, “Did you do this?”

She held up the bracelet in anger, “I’m proofed as hell, sir.”

Tony walked off, talking to F.R.I.D.A.Y., and Nat with him.

Evelyn was frozen in her spot, unsure of the situation. She looked back at Captain for orders, but the glass office was empty.

_Shit._

Then Evelyn saw Nat and Tony tail after Sharon.

_Stay here or go. Stay here or go, fucking decide now._

(Proceed to "16: Boot Up.")


	18. 16. Boot Up

Evelyn found herself running Stark and Nat, then jogging to keep with their pace.

“Please tell me you have a suit,” Nat said, urgency in her voice.

The day couldn’t really get any worse, can it? “What the hell does he need a suit for?” Evelyn said, almost jogging to keep up with their pace.

As they walked away from mission control, she heard Ross ordering evacuation and get gunships up.

_Shit. What the hell for?_

“Someone’s breaking him out,” Nat muttered, looking at her with suspicious eyes. She couldn't fight Nat right now, as much as she wanted to, as much as the old shit that's been building up had wanted to spill.

 _Shit._ At that moment, Bucky became her first priority. There was no plan, no goal in mind, no law to follow, _just get to him_.

Sharon led them to the stair exit with a swipe of a card.

“It’s just been confirmed that Barnes is on the second floor, and active. He’s a danger to the public, and Ross has ordered SOS on him,” Sharon said as they ran down the stairs.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Evelyn muttered.

The staircase was empty, just the four of them rushing down, their footsteps echoing in in the small walls.

“Got your comms on, Nat?” Tony said.

“Always,” Nat replied.

Evelyn couldn’t breathe now, maybe because of the cardio, but some of it had to be panic and fear. She had to get to Bucky.

“Should she be here?” Nat said without turning, but they knew she meant Evelyn.

 _At least I make the effort to be here_. “Does it really matter?” Evelyn defended.

“Matters whether you signed the Accords or not,” Sharon said, but she knew the answer.

“So, it _doesn’t_ really matter,” Evelyn concluded. Whether the Accords liked it or not, she was here to help. To hell with everything.

And everyone adopted that mindset. For now, the Accords were void and she could stay.

When they reached the door to the second floor, Sharon swiped her card and the door clicked open. She slipped through, Nat following her. Before Evelyn could go next, Tony pulled her back, grabbing her wrist in one hand and holding the door open with another. The door was open enough for Evelyn to hear the screams.

“I know you have a code with your powers…” he started, placing his thumb on the damping bracelet.

Evelyn could’ve hurled right there, knowing what he was getting at, “No, no way. That’s now how I—”

Tony nimbly caught the two pieces of the bracelet with one hand and slipped it in his pocket, “Just this once. It’s the best thing we got. Nobody has to get hurt.”

_Shit._

Bucky had said that too, a long time ago, a galaxy far away. If he ever got out of hand, she just needed to pull his energy. She promised him that and more.

The energy around her flooded in as the last effects of the bracelet wore off, and Evelyn felt the need to just _go._ But the place should have been more alive with electricity than it was. She could only hear the humming of building’s emergency generator.

“Stark, I can’t—”

He pushed her out the door and followed.

“You evaluate the threat. You judge if you need to use it, okay?” he said before leading the way.

There at the second floor, a cafeteria of sorts, emptying out as civilians ran out the door. The panicked screaming had died down and turned into grunts and screams of fighting. Evelyn heard Bucky.

Instinctively, she stepped forward and caught a glimpse of him holding out his own against two men with a metal pipe, and she could feel his arm working its full capacity. Before she could take a step closer, Tony put an arm out.

“Stay put until I tell you to,” he said and ducked behind a column in front of her.

For once, Evelyn did as told and stood there, frozen, watching Tony assemble a repulsor in his hand. He emerged from the column he was hiding from and got ready to fire.

That compelled Evelyn to take two running steps, but Tony had fired already, sending shockwaves at Bucky. For a second, everything was quiet to Evelyn, numbing her, just like if she had the bracelet on again, but everything rushed back in the next second.

“What the fuck was that?” she screamed at Tony, while he got ready to aim another blow at Bucky. “Was that an EMP?”

Before Evelyn could run at him again, prevent him from taking the shot, Stark shot again, and she felt the glove power up before he shot a bright flash at Bucky, pushing him back.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” Tony screamed at her while he ran at Bucky, throwing a punch and pulling out a gun at the same second.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to fucking shoot at him,” she yelled, frozen again. Why the hell was she so scared all of a sudden?

She watched Bucky fight Stark, mad look in his eyes, not pulling his punches. His metal arm ticking more than she had ever observed it. His programming was awake. And it killed her.

This was a good time to cross her line, wasn’t it? She promised to.

Evelyn was pulled out of her thoughts when a bang went off and Tony’s gloved hand was smoking. Before she knew it, Bucky was throwing him across the room, and he landed on a table.

_Shit._

“ _Now_ do I go?” she called out to Tony.

“ _No,_ ” he said firmly. He stayed on the ground, blinking his way into focus.

“You don’t have to protect me,” she scolded him. She would’ve said she wasn’t afraid, but she was. She held her tongue and helplessly watched Sharon and Nat fight him off, wondering when Tony would give the word. She just needed the word and this would all be over. She didn’t want to cross the line she made for herself, trash her own morals, destroy her code, but she would do it just to have Bucky back.

_It will never be over until he’s either out of this place or dead._

_Shit._

_What the fuck is he trying to do?_

“Give me F.R.I.D.A.Y., _now_ ,” she demanded from Stark. He frowned but complied, tossing his red tinted glasses at Evelyn.

She put them on and leaned against the column, hiding from Bucky, “Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Greetings, Ms. Akari.” Panels were flashing before her eyes, but Evelyn refused to try to comprehend them.

“Put all this away and just locate the nearest exit to the ground level from here,” Evelyn said. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had gridded ever surface of the building that Evelyn looked, even down.

“Ground level is accessible through the staircase exit that you and Mr. Stark came through and the open staircase,”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. outlined the twisting staircase in the center wall of the floor. Then to the elevator doors next to them.

“…and the elevator, but seeing that won’t operate under the current power levels…”

So, Bucky wouldn’t try to run out of here on foot, he knew they’d shoot him down. Whatever his mindset was, Evelyn was sure he was trying to escape. If murder was on his mind, Stark would have been dead already. No, he was running. If he was going on foot, he would be in ground level, and he already passed that floor.

“Is there a hangar here? There must be a hangar here,” Evelyn muttered at F.R.I.D.A.Y.

A digital layout of the buildings appeared before Evelyn’s eyes and F.R.I.D.A.Y. focused Evelyn’s attention to the staircase once again, “Hangar confirmed. Accessible through the west wing.”

“And what wing are we on?” Evelyn asked stupidly.

“East. Only accessible by the elevator and the emergency stairs.”

 The hangar was on the west wing, and the only way there was the bridge, only accessible by the stairs they just came from. If the hangar was his goal, he would’ve been across the bridge already.

Did he really learn the layout of the building in a few moments?

“What’s on the roof of the east wing?” Evelyn asked, staring at the building’s digital layout. On the roof of the wing was—

“A helipad, Ms. Akari.”

Evelyn held on to the glasses as she got off her ass took off towards the open staircase.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Tony screamed after her.

“I have a really good hunch,” she just said and ran up the staircase, skipping steps.

“You can’t let him leave, it’ll only get worse from there!” Tony said, voice far away now.

Before she could get far, a shape jumped in front of her, and T’Challa recovered from the jump, stance ready to fight.

_Shit._

“I’m on your side, Your Highness. We all want the same thing,” she said calmly, putting her hands up innocently.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Evelyn felt the distinct ticking of Bucky’s arm moving at a speed and immediately jumped to the side to avoid his punch.

Instead, T’Challa took it, dodging under it and stepped back to kick Bucky in the—

Evelyn got off her feet and started climbing the stairs again, resisting to be a spectator. She breathlessly called to F.R.I.D.A.Y., “Let me know when I get to roof access.”

“Proximity warning,” said the AI.

Evelyn couldn’t even register the warning when a hand grabbed her foot and sent her falling. She put her hands in front of her before her chin could smack on the step in front of her. She turned to see Bucky, with his mad eyes.

She couldn’t hesitate for affection, and instead clumsily kicked back at his face. She felt one land, and heard a smack. Bucky returned with another pull at her foot, Evelyn’s stomach grinding against the smooth steps.

She twisted her foot so she was facing the right way, not needing to strain to see him.

He paused with one knee down, assessing her, breathing hard, his metal hand on her ankle, squeezing.

“Mă cunoști?” _Do you know me?_ She whimpered in Romanian, afraid to suddenly get pummeled. She was afraid to use her powers against him, too. That was another line she didn’t think she had, but one she promised to cross. Why did she have so many lines?

“Вы не угроза _,_ ” he said after too long a silence. She didn’t speak Russian.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., translation?”

“Russian, ‘you are not a threat.’” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

Bucky didn’t waste any more time. He bolted past her and up the stairs.

 _Shit._ “I don’t know if that was a compliment or an insult,” she said, getting off her back.

She tried running up the stairs, but her left ankle gave, suddenly weak. “The fuck,” she muttered. Bucky’s grip must have sprained it.

 _Shit._ He was going to freak when he finds out about what he did.

Instead, she hobbled up the stairs, trying to ignore the pain shooting up her leg. She wanted to believe it got better with every step.

“Can you assess the health stuff, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” she asked, not knowing how Tony asked for it.

“If you hold still, I could,” was that sarcasm Evelyn detected?

“I’m taking that as a no,” Evelyn said, running up the stairs now, muttering a “fuck” every left step.

She saw Bucky disappearing around the corner turn, and that only motivated her more to run faster. The pain was numb by now.

“Roof access in three flights,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

“Bucky, _stop_ ,” she yelled, but he didn’t even turn around.

Bucky was in arm’s length when she grabbed his foot and pulled with what she had, preventing him from stepping on the final landing and opening the door.

As if instinctively, Bucky writhed free of her grip and kicked, Evelyn barely dodging it on time.

“Okay, shit,” she said.

Bucky was frowning deeper now, and he jumped at her, tackling her down the flight of stairs. Tony’s glasses fell off of her and she heard a crunch. _That better be F.R.I.D.A.Y. and not a bone or the thumb drive_.

Evelyn shook of the pain, and stood. Just in time, she saw Bucky pulling his fist back. She ducked under that and threw one of her own, landing one on his jaw. That only seemed to annoy him.

He swept her legs under, sending her sprawling, but she rolled out in time to miss a punch to her face. She grabbed his hand and forced him down, then planted her foot on his lower abdomen. She kicked and he flew over her and landed on his back. And for a moment, Evelyn was surprised she had remembered S.H.I.E.L.D. training. Bucky came at her again, but Evelyn raised her right hand to pull his energy.

 _Shit._ She couldn’t, not him. Not anyone, but not him, most of all. Gods, he broke her. Hesitation.

He grabbed her open palm and twisted, and she doubled over at that. He need her in the gut, and Evelyn couldn’t help but take it. At the third knee, she grabbed his raising leg and pulled up and shouldering him at the same time, sending him on his back. She fell with him when he grabbed her by the neck and took her down.

Before she knew it, Bucky had the crook of his right elbow around her neck, and she started seeing fuzzy darkness. She choked for air, kicked for it. Her hands were trying to pry his arm off, but it wouldn’t give.

_Cross the line. Do it. NOW._

(Quick, reader! Choose Your Own Adventure: Should Evelyn refuse to break her moral code of never manipulating human electricity? Chapter 16A: Divine Wind [Cataclismico]. Should Evelyn honor her promise to Bucky to do whatever it takes to subdue him? Chapter 16B: The Intern [Scherzando].)


	19. 16A. Divine Wind (Cataclismico)

Before she knew it, Bucky had the crook of his right elbow around her neck, and she started seeing fuzzy darkness. She choked for air, kicked for it. Her hands were trying to pry his arm off, but it wouldn’t give.

_Cross the line._

All those years of control practice and the things she’d done and the oaths she swore to herself, it all came down to this. But there were those oaths she swore to him.

_Never._

And as she thought that word, Bucky held his choke and she let him, both her carotid arteries cut off, and everything went dark.

 

The first thing she felt the moment she came to was relief. He didn’t kill her. That meant Bucky was still there, the Soldier didn’t have all the control. The second was confusion as Steve’s face materialized in front her, all panicked, looking down, giving pressure on her chest to where she felt the weight of the world pounding.

“Steve, I’m alright,” she said, her throat tight from the choke hold, but the words came out. She took his hands off her, shoving him away. “He’s the priority. Go get him.”

Steve didn’t think twice about her command and got off his knees and ran up the stairs.

The third thing she felt was the urgency, desperation. She rolled on her stomach, hyperventilating, trying to get her brain to catch up with the oxygen levels. Then, step by step, she was on her knees, then her feet, then she was running up the stairs, albeit slightly lightheaded and limping.

She cleared the last two flights with the dark edging her vision. When the sky opened up as she pushed the roof access door open, a headache began, and it threatened to knock her out. She hyperventilated again, trying to push out her pain with every breath. Squinting down, trying to help the headache. Three more stair steps led to the helipad. That should do her in.

_Just go get Bucky._

Her mind was clearing, everything was coming back. It was all going to be okay now, she just had to get Bucky.

But when Evelyn lifted her eyes from the ground, clumsily recovering from whatever ailed her, the helicopter was in shambles on its side, its tail end teetering over the edge, metal and concrete carnage before her eyes. She found a second wind and climbed the three steps.

How did this even happen? The answer was in front of her when she spotted Steve straining against Bucky’s chokehold through the shattered helicopter windshield.

“BUCKY!” she pleaded with him, slowly hobbling her way there, one baby step at a time.

Then the metal started groaning and the tail end of the helicopter took a dive. Steve strained harder, trying to keep everything from falling just by his neck and Bucky’s arm.

Evelyn took off as the rest of the helicopter teetered over the edge. If she could just get a hand on it, maybe she could lift it up. Like those moms that lifted trucks off their babies with enough adrenaline going.

The edge of the building loomed closer, and she saw nothing but the tipping of the helicopter, of Bucky, of Steve. She dove, caught something with her left hand. Then that adrenaline hit, but for the wrong reasons. Like she was on a roller coaster falling down the track, her heart jumping to her throat as law of inertia wanted to keep it there.

In between the throbs of headache, Evelyn saw, her hand tightly gripping the left hem of Steve’s pants and the water below getting bigger then surrounding her then the inability to breathe then the sunlight and the blessing of air.

She could’ve screamed then, as if asking the heavens what the fuck just happened and why, but the sight of Steve pulling an unconscious Bucky to shore clamped her throat up. So, she swam towards the nearest bank, and walked to where the two men were recovering.

Her throat clamped up tighter as Steve settled Bucky on the ground.

“Is he…” she didn’t want to say it, and she didn’t want to know.

“No,” Steve said hastily, not checking pulses, denying the chance of it. But they watched the slow rising and falling of his chest, and relief hit them as quickly as denial did.

“What now?” she asked, waiting for instructions. She didn’t want to make the decision, fearing everything going wrong if she did.

“Get the hell out of dodge,” Steve said, breathless. He stood up, searching his surroundings. To the right, there was still screaming, panicking of the public as the counter terrorism center was evacuated. Evelyn could feel the rumbling of aircrafts readying for take-off from the left, where the hangar was. She assumed those were the gunships that Ross demanded.

She felt a pit of despair growing, “And James? He’s a walking beacon of suspicion. And where are we supposed to go?”

Steve thought for what felt like a century, but it was only for a few milliseconds, “I know a place.

“Wha—” Evelyn questioned. But Cap stood up without answering the question.

“I’ll be back. Stay here.”

 

* * *

 

They almost ran over Sam as they were leaving the perimeter of the counter terrorism center. ("We're you just going to leave me there?") He said he followed the psychiatrist that was last in the room with Bucky. Both he and Steve thought there was something shady with that man. But Sam stopped glowering over the doctor and glowered deeper when his eyes landed on an unconscious Bucky in the backseat.

“Do you know the worst place to fight and die is in enclosed spaces?” he had said.

“He’ll be okay,” Evelyn defended. Recalling the incident in Bucharest. “He just needs time is all.”

“Worst road trip ever,” he muttered.

Twice, Bucky almost came to in the car before they reached their destination. The first time, Sam panicked, noting the lack of weapons in the car. He was yelling and Steve was trying to calm him down but each second, their voices raised by a decibel. Evelyn was surprised Bucky didn’t come to right then. The second time, Sam told Evelyn to keep him knocked out, slow his heart down, and Steve reinforced that harsh request. She protested, but Steve said it was basically like restarting a heart, restarting Bucky.

By the time they reached their destination, a small dilapidated barn house with a convenient vice grip that Steve claimed to know about from his time during the Second World War, Bucky stayed unconscious. When Steve and Sam set his arm up in the grip with Evelyn protesting in the background, Evelyn thought she had put him in a permanent comatose state.

It wasn’t until he started waking up that Evelyn stopped panicking about the murder she often had nightmares about.

Bucky started out with a groan, and Evelyn jumped from the seat she made from an empty crate.

“Hey, Cap!” Sam immediately alerted Steve, who was out watching for gunships.

Bucky unsuccessfully tried to pull his arm out from the vice.

Evelyn went to his side, though Sam said, “I wouldn’t do that—”

“Stick it, Wilson,” she ignored him.

“Hey, you’re okay,” she said, putting a hand to Bucky’s chest, making sure his heart was beating regularly.

“ _Mă cunoști_?” she asked the same question from when he grabbed her foot and yanked her down the stairs.

“ _Da, Evelyn, doctorul meu,_ _fată_ _mea,_ ” he smiled small, voice groggy. Her heart leapt at the picture, and relief hit her when he didn’t speak Russian.

Then her hands to his head, to check if everything was in working order. She pulled away when she felt his neurons more active than she’d ever felt. The same could be said for the last time he fell into a brainwash attack.

He’d be remembering something. And from the way that he was looking at her, eyes searching for answers and explanations, desperate, confused, Evelyn knew he did.

Steve made noise as his heels stopped him from running.

Bucky looked away from her and up at Steve. She moved aside, sitting on the floor beside him, and saw the memory form in his eyes, and the memories emerge in Steve’s.

“Steve,” he immediately identified.

But Steve steeled himself before plunging into the bottled-up emotion, “Which Bucky am I talking to?”

For some reason, it hurt Evelyn that there was still the need to ask.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah,” he said, his eyes glazing over for a moment, recalling.

She and Steve recalled too. Sarah. That was S.M’s first name. From that other world. They met each other’s eyes, knowing they shared that memory.

A smile appeared on Bucky’s face, “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

Steve nodded at Sam, “Can’t read that in a museum.”

“And just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam said, unconvinced.

“What did I do?” Bucky said, real quiet, looking down, almost flinching at everything that he might hear.

Evelyn glanced at her right ankle, almost throbbing at the mention of the injury’s undertaking. She briefly recalled the bodies of task force agents sprawled in the café, Stark being thrown across the room, and the unwavering attacks she dodged and took.

No one wanted to answer.

“Enough,” Steve said after too long a silence.

Then there was that fear and brokenness Evelyn encountered with each horrible memory that resurfaced.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked.

“HYDRA,” Evelyn answered for him, everything clicking now. “His programming. The doctor must have found a way to activate it.”

Bucky nodded, “The words. All he had to do was say it.”

“Who was he?” Steve asked.

Evelyn was glad he changed the subject. She didn’t want to spend another second thinking about the horrors HYDRA did.

“I don’t know,” Bucky said dejectedly.

Steve seemed to be frustrated, but he kept his tone, “People are dead. The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know.’”

Harshly as he put it, he was right. It felt like Steve was yelling at her, so she shut up.

“He said,” Evelyn recalled the last words on the counter terrorism screen, “that you only have to talk about one. One being the horrors.”

“Siberia. He wanted to know where I was kept,” Bucky recalled.

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve asked.

“Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier,” Bucky’s voice dropped lower, more broken, if it was possible.

He explained that there were five other supersoldiers under HYDRA’s control, and Evelyn recalled the memory echo. The car, the man named Howard, the blue IV bags. But Bucky didn’t tell Steve and Sam that. He just told them about their skill sets, their programming, that if the doctor had control over him, he had control over them, too, and how they could take down governments in a blink and a breath.

That seemed to set them all on edge.

Then Steve nodded at Evelyn, cocking his head indicating for her to get up.

“This would have been a lot easier a week ago,” Sam sighed.

“If we call Tony…” Steve threw it up in the air.

Evelyn’s throat clamped up at the mention. She wasn’t supposed to be here, she was supposed to be in the custody of the government, of Stark. The mention was a sudden reminder of betrayal of Stark and Nat. She never promised them anything, but she said she was sorry, didn’t she? Didn’t her being here instead of there meant she wasn’t really sorry?

“He’s a stickler for the rules this time, it’s un-fucking-likely,” Evelyn said, wanting to slam her head on the frame of the door she was leaning against.

“We’re on our own,” Steve said, and she could almost hear the gears turning in his head, working out a plan to get to Siberia without government interference.

“Maybe not,” Sam said, almost victoriously, though there was no victory to be had. A small smile appeared on his face, “I know a guy.”

 

* * *

 

 

They drove back into the city to reach out to their contacts. There wasn’t a point in time when Evelyn would think they’d ever switch out encrypted cell phones issued by S.H.I.E.L.D. or Stark Industries for payphones. Nevertheless, Steve and Sam parked the car in an alley, and left Bucky and Evelyn in the car.

The moment it was all quiet inside, Bucky asked, “What did I do?”

It wasn’t that type of realization that one would whisper to oneself. This was a demand for answers.

Evelyn sighed, completely blindsided, “Bucky, I—”

“We talked about this,” he reminded her.

She’d forgotten the conversation long ago, when he first emerged from a fixing brainwashed and out for blood. She promised to tell him what his memory didn’t register. There was no use in keeping it secret now and having it spill out later.

“From what I know, what I saw,” she recalled the café. “Two serious injuries, one scorned government agent, one wronged king, and two butthurt Avengers.”

“That’s all?” he dared to ask. He knew that wasn’t all. Evelyn didn’t see the bodies he dropped on his way up to the café from Sublevel 5, but she knew bodies must have dropped.

“Probably not,” she admitted.

“And you?” Bucky was quiet. She barely heard the question.

Evelyn turned to him, stroked his cheek, and smiled, “Never.”

He looked away, “Do you know how I can tell you’re lying?”

She drew her hand away, and shrunk into herself. “Jesus,” she muttered.

“Your voice goes soft, and you say what I want you to,” he said and laughed sardonically.

“This is the worst time to think about how you’re going to hurt me next,” she said. “I know what’s going to happen. You’re going to—”

“I just want to keep you—”

She continued her thought, strongly this time, “You’re going treat me like I’m fragile and I’m going to treat you like _you’re_ fragile, and back in Bucharest, it was fine because how fucking domestic can that setting get? But now, with what we’re about to do, it’s not really the best time.”

He opened his mouth again, but she cut him off, “You hate it when I try to protect you from yourself, don’t you?”

Bucky shut his mouth and looked at his shoes.

She sighed, “The circumstances we’re in right now don’t allow room for error—”

“So, you think emotions are errors?” he demanded.

“For now, yes,” she almost screamed as she turned to him, but he looked so broken at her answer.

“Do you know what you sound like?” he said in that voice. That voice he took on when he talked about the past.

And she did. Forcing him to choose the mission over feeling, over memory, over self. It screamed of HDYRA.

But it screamed of her mistakes too. Everything that had happened, it was because she didn't compartmentalize, but because she didn't deny her feelings.

Before she could apologize, Steve and Sam opened the doors, the feeling of urgency permeating the argumentative air.

“What the hell happened in here?” Sam asked, seeing Bucky and Evelyn’s faces. Neither of them replied.

Sam shrugged, and briefed the rest of them about his payphone call, “I got Clint hooking us up with a ride, he’ll be at the airport with the new recruit.”

“He pull her out?” Steve asked.

Sam snorted, “From what I heard, Maximoff pulled Clint out. They should be here in a couple hours.”

Steve nodded, satisfied, “I got Sharon to meet us with our gear.”

“Sharon? As in counter terrorism task force Sharon?” Sam demanded.

The engine started after stalling twice.

“She’s good,” Steve defended and started driving.

“She better be,” Sam muttered.

Steve looked the two of them glowering in their seats through the rearview mirror, “You guys alright?”

Evelyn opened her mouth without anything to say, but Bucky cut in, “We’re fine.”

“ _Who’s lying now?_ ” Evelyn muttered in Romanian.

“ _Both of us, so that must mean we can’t continue on the mission now,_ ” he replied sarcastically.

“What language is this?” Sam muttered to Steve.

“ _You should have followed my instructions, and we’d be out of the government’s reach by now and I’d tell you everything that happens when the wrong side of you gets switched on,_ ” she spat, recalling the parked quinjet in the Arena. It was probably still there.

“ _I just want to keep you safe! I just have to be a little careful around you! That’s all I want!_ ” he was screaming now too.

“ _You’re going to bend over backwards to make it up to me, and that shit’s going to get you_ killed _,_ ” she snapped, turning towards him.

“I just don’t want to see you killed,” she said in English, her throat was so tight it barely made it out as a whisper.

“Whoa,” Sam muttered. “What just…” but he tapered off when Steve shook his head. He seemed to know what she was talking about. How could he not?

“ _And I don’t want to kill you. Or anyone_ ,” Bucky said, just as quiet.

Evelyn scoffed, “No offense, but when push comes to shove, I could kill you before you could kill me.”

That was a half-truth. In theory, she could run enough electricity through anyone that they’d go into cardiac arrest or their brain would fry, depending on how much electricity she had at hand. But this was put into practice at the counter terrorism center, when Evelyn refused to do so when he was holding her in a blood choke, when she was moments from death.

When she said it, she made sure to sound like she was boasting. She made sure not to let her voice go soft and the half-truth to be something she would never say to him.

And he was silent at that.

“ _You hurt my ankle grabbing me in the stairs,_ ” she relented the information in less than eloquent Romanian. “ _You kneed me in the stomach a couple times. You pushed me hard down the stairs._ ”

His eyes were closed, as if committing her words to memory and suffering at the same time.

“And you broke Stark’s glasses,” she remembered. She didn’t mention the near-death experience or his threat evaluation. “ _Is that what you wanted to hear?_ ”

The car slowed to a stop before Bucky could answer. In front of them was government lady Sharon, leaning against the trunk of her car.

Steve stepped out of the car, and Evelyn felt the need to step out with him. She told everyone and herself that it was for defense, she’d be able to detect bio-electric activity from ambushers before any of them could. But she just needed a moment away from the stuffiness in the car.

“I don’t think you understand the concept of a getaway car,” Sharon said.

“It’s low profile,” Steve defended with a grin, and it was only now that Evelyn felt the buzz between him and Sharon.

“Good, because this stuff tends to draw a crowd,” Sharon said, then budged off the trunk of her car and cracked it open.

Steve nodded her head at Evelyn, indicating for her to fish the stuff out of Sharon’s trunk.

“I have to do _everything_ in this family,” Evelyn muttered. She saw the arc reactor and immediately went for it, breathing in the cold power at her fingertips. Also in the trunk were Steve and Sam’s suits, the backpacks from Bucharest, Evelyn’s tac suit and goggles, and a standard black.

“I tried to guess his size, may or may not fit,” Sharon nodded at Bucky in the car.

“I owe you, again,” Steve said, and that was Evelyn’s cue to take the stuff back to the car. Leaving the shield in the trunk, she could barely see over the stack of suits and machinery bundled in her arms, and she had to kick the door for Bucky to open it.

“Move over,” she said to Bucky, tossing the pile of laundry in the backseat behind Sam.

“Give me my suit,” Sam demanded, almost childlike.

Evelyn rolled her eyes, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” Sam said flatly.

“Sorry, that’s wrong,” Evelyn said, plucking Sam’s red suit and shoes out of the pile and carelessly tossing them to the front. She also tossed Steve’s suit on the driver’s seat.

Then she shoved the rest of the things to the middle seat and sat. “Can you move your seat up, Wilson? Tyrion fucking Lannister would feel cramped back here.”

Wilson turned and held Bucky’s eyes, face emotionless, a glint of laughter in his eyes, then he moved his seat up and Evelyn felt her knees relieve of pressure.

There was a charged silence in the car, someone wanting to break it, opening their mouths ever second to try say something, but it stayed silent.

“They should just kiss already,” Wilson said suddenly.

Evelyn felt herself go red at that, but realized he was talking about Steve and Sharon, still talking, making fleeting eye contact, bio-electric activity surging.

“I don’t know, should they?” Evelyn contested.

Then Bucky’s hand found Evelyn’s and she held it, and everything seemed to melt away. Every scolding, every word she regretted saying and not saying, every thought about anything at all. She stared at their hands, how they looked the same every time they held each other like this, how they were relaxed like nothing was wrong in the world and they weren’t about to fight supersoldiers to the death. Nothing was the same.

Wilson gasped excitedly, “Oh, my god, everything I say comes true. I’m on a roll.”

Evelyn looked up to see Steve and Sharon sucking face, her hand in his hair, his on the small of her back, together like everything was okay.

“Seeing it is weird, though,” Sam thought out loud. “Weird, but I guess I’m happy for him.”

Before she the urge to laugh could take her, Bucky broke the silence, “Can we do that, too?”

Wilson laughed, “No way soldier, I don’t think I swing that way.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, face all red. He was stuttering, “That’s not… I meant—”

Evelyn didn’t hesitate to grab his unshaven face and feel his lips crash on to hers. The familiar taste of his morning breath and mint hit Evelyn and she was momentarily enamored with it and everything that he was and they were. Time seemed to slow down and it was just them in another plane of existence and nothing mattered and nothing was ever wrong. He always asked, and she never denied.

They were pulled back into reality when Steve threw his door open and made a raucous about how sloppy this car had become, tossing his suit at Wilson. Evelyn pulled apart from Bucky, withdrawing her hand placed gently on his cheek.

But for a passing moment, her eyes held Bucky’s, and they were both silent, drowning in each other.

“Where to now?” Evelyn asked, breaking eye contact to look at Steve through the rearview mirror.

“Airport. Barton and Wanda will be there, then to Siberia,” Steve said.

“Stark will probably be there,” Evelyn muttered.

“A whole team will probably be there,” Wilson said.

Steve glanced at Bucky through the rearview mirror.

“We’re ready, we have to be,” he said gravely.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve navigated through the airport parking lot, and Evelyn couldn’t help but feel deceived. It’s like they were a family on their way to some fabulous getaway vacation off the coast of Tahiti, the stuff in their hands were nothing lethal, just carryon luggage that may or may not fit in the overhead compartment.

But Evelyn never got on a plane with the destination being a spot of relaxation. It was always something quite the opposite. They carted her off to S.H.I.E.L.D. in a plane, to Stark Industries from Potosi on a plane, to Bucharest by Fury on a plane. Vacation was a word not in her vocabulary.

“There they are,” Wilson said as the ascended up the twisting and empty parking lot.

A white van was parked between the empty spaces of white lines, no other car in sight. Clint Barton was leaning against the sliding side doors of the van, looking out the distance, longing in his eyes. Add a cigarette in his hand and switch up his suit for a plaid shirt and he would’ve looked insanely like a man out of the internet, pining for a lost love, contemplating his life choices. Evelyn could’ve cracked a smile if they were in the right circumstances.

Steve parked the Beetle beside them, and he and Wilson climbed out to meet Barton and Maximoff.

Evelyn had her hand on the door handle, but Bucky stopped her, gently grabbing her free hand.

“Evelyn,” he just said.

 _Shit._ She didn’t want to look at him.

“Before all of this happens,” he continued.

 _Shit._ “I’m sorry for not telling you. I just thought I could spare you from the pain,” Evelyn confessed, tears forming in her eyes. “You just take care out there and don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be okay, _we’ll_ be okay.”

She smiled at him and lightly kissed the tip of his nose before throwing the car door and stepping out.

“Hey, Sparky,” Clint greeted her as he slid the van door open.

“Katniss,” she nodded, leaning against the Beetle.

She met eyes with Wanda, and the girl immediately went to Evelyn and their arms were wrapped around each other.

“Heard you kicked Vision’s ass, more or less,” Evelyn muttered in her ear in the embrace.

The music of Maximoff’s laughter was sad, but she laughed anyhow, “More than less.”

They released and held each other at arm’s length, drinking in how much they have changed until Barton slammed the van door open, and a man popped awake, a bewildered look overtaking his sleepy face.

“What time zone is this?” he grinned.

“Who’s this guy?” Evelyn muttered.

“The shrinker,” Wanda said quietly.

Sam only mentioned the man in passing.

Bucky emerged from the car. He eyed his surroundings, always wary. That broke her. Bucky Barnes didn’t deserve to be running like a fugitive. He deserved a cup of hot chocolate in his cold hands without a care in the damn world.

Evelyn noticed her fists clenching before she quickly released them.

The man stuttered as he shook Captain America’s hand, blubbering to impress him.

“Evie, you take care, okay?” Bucky said softly.

 _Shit._ “Always,” Evelyn mustered a small smile and put a hand on his shoulder. For a short second, touching him gave her a rush, or was it just his arm’s electrical activity?

Why did these moments feel like they were saying goodbye?

 “If said Winter Soldiers exist and said psychologist knows about them, we should probably get going,” Evelyn distracted herself, calling out to whoever was listening.

“I got a chopper lined up,” said Clint.

“I don’t think we’ve met, but I’m sure you’re cool too!” the man grinned.

“Evelyn, this is Scott Lang, the new guy,” Wilson introduced with a smirk.

Evelyn waved stiffly,

“Ant-Man,” Lang said. “Didn’t really pick the name—”

The speakers whirred to life with electrical signals, and started blaring out urgent German.

“They’re evacuating the airport,” Bucky said to them.

“Stark,” Steve said grimly.

“Your dad’s here,” Wilson quipped with a dour smile, Barton smirked behind him.

 _Shit._ Evelyn suddenly flushed with embarrassment and shame.

“Iron Man’s your dad?” Scott Lang said, eyes wide in childlike amazement.

Before Evelyn could open her mouth to deny it, Steve stopped her with a raise of a hand and said, “Suit up.”

 

(Proceed to Chapter 17A: Fermato Con Fuoco)


	20. 16B. The Intern (Scherzando)

Evelyn absorbed the energy from Bucky’s arm, and it went slack, dropping away. She choked for air once he released. Tears were falling, but she couldn’t give a fuck about why at the moment.

Bucky stared at his arm in disbelief, his whole weight still on her. His eyes were more confused than empty and cold now. He glanced back at her.

_Shit._

Evelyn gave his arm its nerve function back before it stopped functioning permanently. Bucky scrambled off of her and on his feet, grabbing her by her coat and slammed her on the wall.

_Shit._

She felt herself land on the sharp stairs before the darkness breached, threatening to take her. She wanted to stand, crawl, anything.

_Shit._

_Bucky._

Evelyn wanted to stand now, her feet found the ground, her eyes trying to focus and fend off the darkness and the sleep. “Shit,” she managed to croak out, knowing it was a waste of breath.

Her eyes came into focus and she remembered where she was. Berlin. _You were born here_. She was holding on to the rail, and her eyes were in focus now. Her hearing came into focus and she could hear the chopper start up outside, cutting air. She took a step forward, still clutching the rail, but her body screamed, resisting, head throbbing, and her left ankle kept shooting pain up her leg like it was her favorite thing in the world. She stopped and breathed, which she found was hard to do now.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., I’m holding still for your health evaluation,” she said, but forgot she had broken the glasses falling down the stairs. She was feeling sweat dripping down her face and then on the floor.

Only it was red, and it was slowly trickling warm down Evelyn’s face.

_Shit._

_Just go get Bucky._

Evelyn eyed the one flight of stairs she had left, her vision going out in spots.

_Go get Bucky or the they’ll will shoot him down._

She hyperventilated, trying to push out her pain with every breath. Then she screamed like a warrior and ran up the steps, ignoring her darkening vision and her screaming leg, never mind the ringing in her ears and how unusually muffled everything was. She pushed past the door, though her legs wanted to give at that point.

Of course, three more steps led to the helipad. That should do her in.

_Just go get Bucky._

Her mind was clearing, everything was coming back. It was all going to be okay now, she just had to get Bucky.

But when Evelyn lifted her eyes from the ground, clumsily recovering from whatever ailed her, the helicopter was in shambles on its side, its tail end teetering over the edge, metal and concrete carnage before her eyes. She found a second wind and climbed the three steps.

Steve was there, _(when did that happen?),_ straining against Bucky’s chokehold through the shattered helicopter windshield.

“BUCKY!” she pleaded with him, slowly hobbling her way there, one baby step at a time.

Then the metal started groaning and the tail end of the helicopter took a dive. Steve strained harder, trying to keep everything from falling just by his neck and Bucky’s arm.

_Shit._

It was getting worse. Her vision was getting darker, her whole body was numb. She was on her knees now, crawling, trying to reach out. Her hand was held out. Maybe she could do something. No, she wasn’t telekinetic, how could she think that? No, Wanda’s the one that could do that.

Where’s Wanda?

_Don’t let him fall. Shit._

Before everything went black, she watched the helicopter fall off the roof, the image of Captain struggling against Bucky’s conditioning was a sight she’d burned into her mind.

* * *

 

 

They found her on the rooftop unconscious, with the shattered concrete around her. She came to a few minutes after her recovery, and they were taking her down the steps on a stretcher. They were yelling at her, asking questions, but the ringing in her ears overshadowed them. Where even was she?

Her eyes passed the broken red glasses. She fell on that. How again? She tripped maybe?

No, he took you down. He’s gone now.

_Shit._

She was awake now, but her vision was still going out in spots, and her whole body was numb apart from her screaming ankle and throbbing head. Everything was blurry, she couldn’t differentiate shapes or electrical sources. She didn’t try to control anything electrical. She knew she was out of it, and controlling things would make things worse. Still, she tried to stay awake, tried to listen to the questions they were asking her.

 “What is your name?”

 _Oh, I know this one._ People have said it back to her in the past, read it from her files whenever she entered a new program, introduced herself many times. “Evelyn Akari.”

“Where are you right now?”

She got there by plane, she was nervous. “Bucharest,” _No. The other one_. The other one with the plane and the nervous, the wrong kind of nervous, not the moving-to-another-country nervous. The kind of nervous because she didn’t know how Bucky was, where they were going, and everything was silent. “Berlin.”

“Who attacked you?”

He grabbed her foot. He let her go, he didn’t hurt her. She hurt him first. “It wasn’t his fault,” she croaked. _No, answer the question._ “Shit.”

 

* * *

 

 

They escorted her to the glass office where they kept Steve and Sam once she showed signs of being reasonable. She practically jumped off the stretcher and angrily walked, cursing a storm at anyone who tried to tell her to do anything else. The headaches and the pulsing in her brain was strong, but her determination to put one foot in front of the other was stronger.

Nat and Tony were sitting across from her now, staring in silence, watching the doctor bandage her head up and flash lights in her eyes. He kept asking Evelyn to wiggle her toes and raise her hands, and she only robotically followed. She felt dead inside, she might as well have died falling from the roof too. Hell, she did.

“I need you to take it easy for a couple of days,” said the doctor, who introduced himself as Robert Solo with a Star Wars reference that no one bothered to laugh at. “You might have a concussion, but I would like to observe for a few days before diagnosing.”

Evelyn supposed they were keeping her for a few days then. Did it matter? She had nowhere else to go. Bucky was gone, her assignment went to shit, she should have been relieved. Why the hell should she be relieved though? She wanted to burn the whole city, but she also wanted to shrink inside the hollow shell she has become and never come out.

“In the meantime, take aspirin free painkillers, and stay out of fights,” said Solo, all monotone now, not bothering to connect with anyone. Then he left the room, probably deciding their silence unbearable.

“Did they find the bodies?” Evelyn croaked, avoiding eye contact, staring intensely at a scuff on her right shoe. She didn’t know why she asked. She didn’t want to know. But she did. _Shit._ Of course she did.

There was an uncertain silence in the room, and Evelyn saw Nat and Tony looking at each other.

“What?” she asked, her usual demanding tone had disappeared.

“No, they didn’t,” Tony said, looking at the ceiling now.

Natasha broke in before he could say anything else, “They’re alive.”

 _Shit._ She looked at Tony, her chest on fire now, “You couldn’t have opened with that?” Evelyn resisted her urge to smile or cry, or both. Instead, she kept her stoic façade. It was a façade now, it hadn’t been 3 minutes ago.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the glass door opened and a bureaucrat looking man in a suit walked in. Evelyn saw the stationed body guards outside, watching her every move.

Nat and Tony stood. They both looked like they were dreading the speech that was about to come from the man.

The man sighed and nodded at her, “Thank you for signing the Accords.”

Evelyn opened her mouth to say something, anything, contradict him, or anything generally disrespectful, but Nat interrupted, “Evelyn, this is Thaddeus Ross, United States Secretary of State,” Nat explained with utmost urgency, adding emphasis on the man’s title. “Sir, this is—”

“Evelyn Akari. You look good on the news. You know they're calling you Volta?” Ross said, slight contempt behind his forced smile.

Evelyn’s face burned, her eyes went back down to the scuff on her shoe. Stark had told her that right after Sokovia. It was endearing then, like Iron Man before it was official. A name of the people. But now, it was empty. After all that, after the people she hurt. It was like a name for a serial killer.

Ross paced the room, “You’re the one that interfered with Barnes’s arrest. You’re the one that caused that helicopter crash and that massive pileup in Bucharest. You aided a fugitive.”

“My reputation precedes me,” Evelyn muttered under her breath.

Tony was quick to jump to her defense, “Secretary, Evelyn would like to apologize for her actions. She understands that there will be consequences, and she will respect all the decisions that will be made regarding her legal status and prosecution.”

“Did you have that prepared on an index card?” Ross joked with a flat face.

“I was reading off the teleprompter,” Stark quipped.

Ross sighed, “I’m glad Ms. Akari here will comply, but I am actually here to yell at you, Stark, about Rogers.”

Tony nodded, “I was expecting so.”

“I thought you had it handled,” Ross said.

Tony shrugged, “I thought I did too.”

“And I don’t suppose you have any idea where they are?” he asked Stark. Then he eyed Evelyn.

“We’ll find them,” Tony broke in before she could burst into tears as the big man in the suit and power stared daggers at her. “GSG-9’s got the borders covered. Recons flying 24/7. They’ll get a hit. We’ll handle it.”

Ross scoffed, “It’s not yours to handle, Stark. Neither is it yours.” He pointed at Evelyn again. “It’s clear you can’t be objective. I’m putting special ops on this.”

Evelyn looked up and sat forward, “If I may, sir, law enforcement didn’t really handle it _gracefully_ the first time.” It strained her to sound polite. She couldn’t do polite, but she was taught polite. This was the time for polite. Anything else in this delicate conversation could blow things to hell.

“ _Evelyn,_ ” Nat tried to warn her.

Ross could barely keep a cap on his fumes, “This would’ve been over had you and Rogers not interfered with the operation!”

Evelyn barely kept a cap on hers, “And that’s on me sir, but an SOS order wasn’t the best way to handle Barnes.”

He narrowed his eyes, “And how would you handle him? Judging by your injuries, you _can’t._ ”

Evelyn held his stare, and stood against the man that could put her away forever. She smiled sardonically, “My injuries are not an endurance assessment, but I’d be glad to take one if you really want to _measure_ me. Need I remind you, _sir,_ I caused that helicopter crash and the pileup. So, unless you have someone else like that in that well-tailored sleeve of yours, I’m your best chance at getting them.”

The moment it came out of her mouth, it was pure regret. But she held her stare, trying to subliminally compel him to allow her to do it.

Ross stepped back, hands still in his pockets, and stared at her, nose flaring in anger. But he scanned her, eyes deep in thought.

Tony broke the silence, “72 hours. Give us 72 hours.”

Ross turned away and walked towards the door, “36.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said with deep respect as the door shut behind Ross.

Then both of their eyes were on Evelyn.

“You’re walking on very, _very_ thin ice, Evelyn,” Nat scolded, her head shaking

Evelyn jerked, “He was insulting—”

“Evelyn,” Nat began. “I don’t care if he was insulting your great ancestor, you don’t talk back at people that can make your life hell.”

Evelyn opened her mouth but Nat cut her off again, “I’m not going to say it again. You don’t deserve to be in jail. You don’t do this to us.”

That made Evelyn silent. There was frustration in Nat’s face, but there was a flatness to her emotion. Like she was hiding something more profound.

Stark shrugged and breathed deeply, breaking the tense silence, “I don’t mind Evelyn in jail. At least I’d know where she is.”

He swiveled in his chair, and put pressure on his shoulder. He looked out the glass wall and watch agents walk around, Ross shooting orders like a ship captain.

“I told you you’d miss her,” Nat said, smirking.

“Stop talking like I’m not in the room,” Evelyn stood on her right foot, and immediately threw her hands down on the table for support. The sound of flesh hitting glass turned their heads.

“We need to go. 36 hours is a nap,” Evelyn scolded them.

Nat scoffed at her, and smiled like normal now, like Evelyn wasn’t a fugitive with Big Brother breathing down her neck, “We need time. And we’re seriously understaffed.”

“It would be great if we had a Hulk right about now,” Stark said, spinning his chair back to face Evelyn and Nat.

Nat scoffed again, “Do you really think he’d be on our side?”

Tony looked down on his hands, twiddling his phone, “I’ve got an idea.”

Evelyn perked up. She opened her mouth to ask, but Nat spoke first, “Me too.”

“What’s yours?” Tony asked.

Nat turned to look at him, as if confused that he even had to ask, “Downstairs. What’s yours?”

Only Tony gave her a smug smile and almost jumped out of his seat, “Evelyn. With me or Nat?”

Evelyn only stared at the two of them, “I don’t know what the hell either of you are talking about. If one of you could clue me in…”

* * *

 

Evelyn tried to catch sleep before they landed, but Tony had been catching Evelyn up on the things she’d missed. Each time Evelyn would almost drift off, he would burst into an interjection ( _Did you hear about that super strong chick that snapped some guy’s neck?_ Or _How about the masked man? Calls himself Daredevil now._ Or _Barton gave birth! Well, his wife did. Baby’s cute. Still waiting to be named godfather. Middle name’s after Pietro._ ).

She was forced to acknowledge it, not wanting Tony to feel neglected ( _No, I didn’t. Hope she’s doing okay._ Or _I did. Hope he’s doing okay._ Or _Oh that’s nice. Wanda must be proud._ )

After the 12th interjection about mundane or non-mundane life, Tony brought up a question with a quiet voice:

“Cap said he brought you in when he heard that Barnes was in Bucharest. Did he?”

Evelyn’s eyes snapped open and the lethargy she was feeling a few seconds ago had disappeared, “Are they listening in?”

“Not in here,” he admitted.

“Then, no,” Evelyn stared at the quinjet wall in front of her. She counted the holes, waiting for the obvious follow up question.

“How’d you know Barnes was there?”

She wanted to say _I didn’t_ , but she thought she owed Stark the truth. She owed the Team the truth, “You know when Hill sent me to Moldova for two weeks and no one knew about it?”

Stark swiveled from the pilot seat, now facing her, “I’m intrigued.”

“Hill sent me to look for Barnes. For recruitment,” Evelyn said quietly, anxious about whether she should even be speaking about this.

“Oh, that sneaky…” Stark said, a smirk on his face. “You came back with nothing, I’m guessing?”

She nodded, “Yeah, then Bucharest turned up on the radar. And then I was there. It took a half a year to find him, and a whole year to get him to trust me.”

She twisted the details. It only took a week to replicate the Tesseract readings from Loki’s invasion, and a minute to open a stable portal and accidentally stumble into Bucharest. Another week for Bucky to find out who she was and to trust her. The rest of that time was rehabilitation. But she couldn’t release that information. It wasn’t hers to release.

“The assignment was under Stark Industries outreach to University Politehnica in Bucharest,” Evelyn concluded.

“None of this was in the system. Everything’s in the system,” Stark said. Evelyn looked away from the wall holes she was counting and saw Stark had his phone out, projecting multiple screens as he sifted through data.

“It was low key under Hill,” Evelyn admitted. “Off the books. She didn’t want you knowing about it.”

Stark commanded the projections back in and tucked his phone away, “Of course, she didn’t.”

Then they were silent until F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in, “We’re five miles from the Tower, sir.”

“I’ll land,” he volunteered. “Buckle in, kid.”

“I know the rules,” she said as she clicked her seatbelts in for landing.

Stark called out as he smoothed the jet down into the Tower hangar, “First thing when you get out of here, get cleaned up. Look intern-y, not someone who just got beat up.”

“Why do I have to look intern-y? Are we lying to people?” Evelyn said as she unbuckled herself once the jet settled still and the bay door opened.

Stark started pushing her out the jet at a brisk pace, “Of course we’re lying to people, we’re not Jehovah’s Witness.”

* * *

 

Evelyn parked parallel parked the car as meticulously as she could despite Stark’s desperate urging to “just park the damn car.” ( _It’s a Porsche, Tony. We’ll look even more like an asshole if I park like one._ ) Once they got out, Stark eyed her up and down and frowned slightly. He disapproved of the black jeans and the red leather jacket she found in the quinjet, but was indifferent towards the white button up and the black cardigan.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a silk three piece in the closet I moved out of a long time ago,” she said, rolling her eyes as she took point. She noticed the passersby staring and sparing a glance at Stark.

“Lose the jacket,” Stark said, pushing past her, wanting to take the lead.

“It’s chilly,” Evelyn said, cutting of his path. She hugged the jacket closer to her.

“You look like you’re about to give a local blood bank a shakedown for weekly blood sacrifices to your vampire king,” he said. He nodded passing people that gaped.

She wanted to poke fun at his three piece, the standard attire for soul harvesters, but she saw his point. She shed the jacket even before they walked into the building, and held it at the crook of her arm.

“Listen, I do the talking. Only talk when you are addressed,” Stark said as he stepped in front of her

“I’m not a slave, old man,” she retorted, pushing past him as the elevator doors opened. Those that exited the elevator took a good long look at Stark before placing a name to a face.

A boy in his late teens eating a bag of chips stopped chewing and pulled out his cell phone, “Whoa! Iron Man! Can I get a picture?”

“A picture for those chips,” Tony said without hesitation.

The boy laughed and handed him the half eaten bag, “Sure thing, Mr. Stark.” Then the boy handed Evelyn the phone and stood beside Stark.

“Sure I can take the picture!” Evelyn said, voice heavy with sarcasm. She didn’t wait for the kid to fix his hair and smile before snapping the picture.

The boy had a look of disbelief in his face before Evelyn tossed him the phone, “Sorry, kid. Mr. Stark has pressing business. Book a VIP event with his secretary if you want to hash things out with that picture.”

She then pulled Stark away from the growing crowed and into the elevator, “What floor?” she asked.

Stark stepped in front of her and pressed 4.

“Why didn’t you go with Nat?” he asked wanting to pick a fight.

“As much as I would like to see the look on Wakandan King’s face when I tell him he didn’t win my extradition, I wouldn’t really like to cross paths with him unless I have to. And anyway, you would’ve gotten mobbed out there without me.” Evelyn said.

The elevator doors opened, and Evelyn felt the panic, “Wait, Stark, what’s the plan?”

“There is no plan,” he said, walking in front of her and popping a blue berry in his mouth.

“What do you mean ‘there is no plan?’” she walked beside him now, trying to read his face. If he was smirking, there was a plan he didn’t want her in on until the last minute. If his face was trying to hide a smirk, there was no plan.

They passed a couple doors until Stark stopped on one on their left with "4D" nailed to the door.

“We talk about the grant—”

“What grant?”

He rolled his eyes, “We talk about the grant, how great it is, how he was chosen for it, then we talk to him about Germany.” Then he knocked without further hesitation.

“Tony, what grant are you talking about? Are you bribing the man? What about the Accords? Is this even sanctioned? You’re going to put me in jail—”

The door swung open, and Evelyn straightened herself out and smiled nicely before her eyes could even settle on the person in front of her. A brunette woman with a confused look on her face that turned into a bright smile as her eyes landed on Tony.

“You’re Tony Stark! I must be dreaming,” the lady laughed softly behind the smile, clearly star struck.

Then her eyes landed on Evelyn, and her smile wavered for a second, “You were on the news.” She drifted off into thought for a quick second, “Volta!”

 _Oh, God, that’s going to stick,_ Evelyn thought to herself as she said “I’m just Evelyn in my normal clothes” behind her teeth.

“What are you doing here?” the woman said, still smiling, her eyes going from her to Stark.

Stark was silent, still smiling at the woman. Eventually, the woman’s ecstatic smile turned into one of confusion in the growing silence.

“Is Mr. Peter Parker home?” Evelyn finally said.

The lady leaned against the door she held, “Um, he should be on his way home now. He’ll be here in a moment. What is this about?”

“We’re here to talk to Peter about a grant,” Evelyn started, elbowing Stark in the ribs.

He jerked, as if shaken from a day dream, “Yes, Mr. Parker. Yes, he has been chosen to be a recipient of the September Foundation.”

Surprise washed over the woman’s face, then pure joy, “Oh my god! I don’t even know what that is, but you’re the bringer of the news so it must mean something good!” Then she stopped rejoicing and her face fell flat, “I’m so sorry, where are my manners. Would you like to come in?”

Stark went in first, Evelyn following as the door shut behind her. It was a small apartment, but cozy. She passed at least three shelves of miscellaneous things as the woman guided them to the living room.

“Please, make yourselves at home,” the woman said.

The woman held her hand out, “I’m May. May Parker, Peter’s aunt and legal guardian.” She shook both of their hands as they settled into their respective seats—Stark on the couch who barely resisted the urge to put his feet up on the messy coffee table, and Evelyn on the television stand, half her weight on her legs.

“I’m so sorry, I’m all over the place today. I have so much—” a timer dinged before she could finish her sentence. “Oh! It’s finished cooling!” May immediately disappeared into the kitchen, then returned with a platter of brown bread.

“Walnut date loaf, a family recipe. Please, help yourselves,” May said as she flitted around the apartment, picking things up and replacing things.

Tony did as told and picked up a slice of the loaf. Before he could give a bad facial reaction to the food, May passed in front him with several things in her hands.

“I’m so sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting company,” she said.

Evelyn glanced at her watch that interns were supposed to wear. 31 hours until Barnes had to be in custody. They were wasting time. Whatever Stark needed to say needed to be said now.

Evelyn chased after May and gently grabbed her by the shoulders, “Mrs. Parker, Mr. Stark has some interesting things to say about the grant that your nephew has received. Here, I’ll take this stuff.” She grabbed the clothes and magazines off of her hands and placed them on the dinner table.

May placed herself on the opposite side of the couch, and watched Tony eat her loaf. She looked at him, waiting for him to say something. When Evelyn replaced herself back on the television stand half standing, she cleared her throat.

“Yes, the September Foundation. The Stark Industries decided to allot a certain amount of money to young people everywhere with the potential to be great. There are brilliant minds everywhere that aren’t as lucky as I was when I was growing up to have access to resources.”

Evelyn nodded, _Keep it vague. Keep her from getting suspicious that it isn’t real,_ though it seemed like she was agreeing.

“With this grant—”

He was interrupted by the door opening harshly, then a boy’s voice emerged, “Hey, May.” He passed through the apartment, not noticing new house guests.

“How was school today?” she called out, but she grinned at Stark and Evelyn.

“Okay,” the boy sighed, and they heard him throw his keys down. “There’s this crazy car parked outside…” He drifted off at the sight of Tony Stark seated on his couch.

Evelyn’s heart wrenched up. _He was just a kid. High school. What the hell was Tony thinking?_

“Oh, Mr. Parker,” Tony said with a deliberate delay for theatrical effect, a smirk on his face.

Evelyn watched Tony, but there was no sign of rethinking. He kept rolling.

Peter Parker began to stutter with the same star struck look that his aunt had five minutes ago, “Um… Wha… What are you doing… Hey. I’m-I’m-I’m Peter.”

 _He finally settled on a card,_ Evelyn thought.

“Tony,” said Tony.

“Evelyn, intern,” she said as she waved, but she couldn’t help her smile from wavering. She already felt guilty for dragging the kid into this.

Tony looked at her, eyebrow cocked. _Watch and learn, kid._ What a compulsive—

Parker continued to stutter, finally ending with a full question, “What are you doing here?”

Stark shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s about time we met. You’ve been getting my e-mails, right?”

Evelyn couldn’t look at the boy, but she couldn’t stop Tony from smooth talking his way into these people’s lives. Why couldn’t she?

Parker nodded, “Yeah, regarding the—”

“You didn’t tell me about the grant,” May broke in.

“The grant,” Parker nodded again.

“The September Foundation,” Tony chimed in. “Remember when you applied?”

“Yeah?” Parker said, not too sure of himself.

Tony bit into his loaf, “Well, I approved. So now, we’re in business.”

May leaned against the chair and looked at Parker, “You didn’t tell me anything. What’s up with that? You’re keeping secrets from me?” She didn’t sound angry, or scolding. She could barely keep in her seat and hugging the boy.

He stuttered again, groping for a lie, then came up with a solid sentence, “I just know how much you love surprises. So, I thought I’d let you know when I…” He lost the grasp on his lie and drifted.

Evelyn opened her mouth but Parker managed to push back the imminent silence, “Anyway, what did I apply for?”

“That’s what we’re here to hash out,” Tony said, not even detecting that this whole thing was falling apart.

Parker nodded, and Evelyn could see the gears turning in his head, “Hash… hash out, okay.”

Then Tony looked back at May, “It’s so hard for me to believe that she’s someone’s aunt.”

May blushed, not looking Tony in the eye, “We come in all shapes and sizes, you know.”

“This walnut date loaf is _exceptional_ ,” Tony said, biting into his slice again. Evelyn watched the way that his right foot bent back and forth indicated that he wasn’t really enjoying the loaf. But the compliment was the hook. He just had to reel it in then talk to the kid alone.

“Let me just stop you right there,” Parker said, more confident this time. “Is this grant, like, got money involved or whatever?”

Evelyn nodded just in case Parker looked her way. He didn’t. She was relieved that he didn’t, feeling like the less he interacted with her, the less she’d feel wrong about bringing him in.

“Yeah, I mean it’s pretty well funded. I mean, look who you’re talking to,” Tony said.

Parker’s face lit up at that confirmation.

Then Tony said, “Can I have five minutes with him?”

“Sure,” May said, not hesitating.

“Where’s your room?” Stark asked, standing up.

Parker nodded. He turned left, then right, as if forgetting where his room was, “It’s through here.”

As they disappeared into Parker’s room, Tony gave Evelyn a look and pointed at the aunt.

_What?_

Before she could figure out what he meant, May started talking, “So, you said you’re an intern?”

 _Shit._ Evelyn nodded vigorously, “Yes. Or _was_ , actually. I _was_ an intern. I was promoted to field—” she almost said agent, but caught herself, “engineer. I do research out of the office.”

May nodded, truly interested, “Oh, what do you do as a field engineer?”

 _What did field engineers do?_ “I go around the country seeing how well Stark’s products are working off site. We see what works and what doesn’t work, try to fix or improve things,” Evelyn nodded.

“You must be seeing all kinds of things,” the woman said, fascinated. That was a signal for _share some stories._

Evelyn had none. She’d only been in three places in the States.

But she nodded, “Yes, I actually worked with S.H.I.E.L.D. for a time. Stark thought their engines were old school, so he sent a few of us with blueprints to improve their aircrafts.”

That was a half-truth. Stark did revamp S.H.I.E.L.D. engines and sent Industry proxies to do it, but Evelyn wasn’t there. She’d only heard from before the Fall and after her recruitment.

May’s face darkened, “Too bad, then.”

“Sorry?” Evelyn was confused.

“S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s been dissolved,” May said, an apologetic look on her face.

“Oh, yeah, right. It was so long ago, I’ve been forgetting,” Evelyn said. But it wasn’t long ago. She’d remembered the buildings crashing down, the armed helicarriers falling from the sky, the screaming.

But S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t dissolved, not completely. Neither has HYDRA. The panic about HYDRA that quelled in Evelyn had fired up again and it took some more staring at the loaf slices and the newspapers on the coffee table to suppress it.

“So, tell me more about this grant,” the woman said, leaning forward. Her voice shook Evelyn back into the present.

 _Shit._ “Right. The September Foundation.” Evelyn tried to collect her thoughts for a moment, closing her eyes. She hated Stark for tossing his hot potato for her to juggle. She’d heard nothing about it at all, if it was even real.

But Nat trained her, so Evelyn pulled more full-lies and half-truths out of her ass, “It’s actually what helped me get promoted.” _Half-truth. Now define what a grant is,_ “I received some money for my own projects—” _Now humble brag,_ “it was actually researching how the arc reactor could be improved— and Stark took me on.” _Add amazed chuckle for effect._

Then a though occurred.

 _Plant the idea._ “Some of the money I received actually allowed me to travel to Europe to share some of the Industries’ tech with other universities and organizations. Currently, I’m in Romania working with the electrical engineering faculty in the University Politehnica of Bucharest.”

Keep it vague with a sprinkle of specific. Keep from getting suspicious. Suggest international travel if Germany ever comes up when Stark walked out of that room.

May gasped at that, “Oh that's right, I saw you on the news.”

Evelyn was pulled out of whatever world she was sucked into during her staring contest with the bread on the coffee table and gaped at May.

“You were chasing down the Winter Soldier,” May said, sounding excited and intrigued. That pulled her back into the real present. Why they were here in the first place.

“Right,” Evelyn said. She evaluated her word choice. “Chasing down” meant “wanting to capture” meant “not on his side.”

A betraying thought popped into her head. _Why are you helping them take him in then? You know he’s not at fault, why don’t you just tell them that he wasn’t in Vienna?_

“It was awful what he did,” May said, voice distant.

An angry outburst almost came out of Evelyn’s mouth in defense for Bucky, but she bit her tongue. She didn’t want to yell at the woman, and she didn’t want to betray her current position.

“It was,” Evelyn just agreed. _Whoever did this, whoever framed him, is truly an awful act._

“And he escaped from custody, didn’t he? Shouldn’t you be—”

Peter Parker’s door busted open. Stark’s big voice talking back at the kid almost seemed a foreign language as it carried to the quiet air around May and Evelyn.

“Mrs. Parker,” Stark said.

“Yes?” May stood up.

“Do you mind if Peter participated in a weekend facility tour in the Stark Industries California branch?” he asked like a child asking if a friend could come out and play.

It was May’s turn to stutter, “Ca… California? That’s so—”

“It’s for the weekend, Mrs. Parker,” Evelyn chimed in, stepping between her and Stark. “I’m from the California branch, and it’s a fantastic place full of smart people. I really think Peter will learn a lot from this trip.”

May looked down, eyes flitting in thought, “Well, I… I’ve got a job; I just can’t drop—”

 _Shit._ “Mrs. Parker, we’ll take good care of Peter, you have my word.”

Evelyn took May’s hand, “On behalf of Stark Industries shareholders and CEO Pepper Potts, we would be very grateful if Peter could join us for the weekend.”

“Please, Aunt May, I’ll be good. I’ll do the dishes for a year,” Peter stepped in.

“Oh…” May was deep in thought and deep in worry, but said, “Alright, kid. Dishes for a year. And your grades better look up.”

Peter beamed and hugged his aunt, pushing past Stark and Evelyn, “Thanks, Aunt May.”

“And you better finish that essay you keep going on about,” May said, on the edge of scolding him.

When he let her go, Evelyn feigned looking at her watch, “Mr. Stark, you have an appointment in ten minutes with the next recipient.”

Stark jumped up, playing with the feint, “Okay, kid, can you pack in ten minutes?”

“Oh, you’re leaving now?” May said as Peter ran into his room.

Stark smiled, “A three-day weekend trip.” Then to Evelyn, he said, “Bring the car around.”

Evelyn protested, “But I’m not—”

“Don’t make me fire you,” Stark smiled

Evelyn left the apartment with an eye roll, yelling back “Don’t make me quit!”

She traced her steps back into the elevator, then out of the apartment complex. She replaced the jacket back on her person as a chill breeze swept past. As she stepped on to the sidewalk, Evelyn spotted a few men checking out the Stark Porsche, peering into the windows, closely examining the shine of the hood. When she unlocked the car and the lights chirped up, the men looked up from their examination.

One of them, tall, pale, hair under a beanie, a sparse beard struggling to surface from his famished face, called out, “Yo, is this your car?”

“Who wants to know?” she said, trying to pass through

But that man blocked her as she tried to make her way through the driver’s door, “We do.”

The others hollered and whistled. She rolled her eyes, and tried to sidestep the man. He stepped with her. Her hands instinctively checked her wrists for the bracelet, and was grateful to the gods when they were bare.

“You guys want to see a trick?” Evelyn said, and approached the hood.

“Sure,” said the tall man, humoring her.

She grinned, pretended to be overjoyed at the participation, “Okay! Everyone put a hand on the hood.” She demonstrated with her own hand, flat on the shine of the car. She cringed inside as five other hands landed on the surface of Stark’s pristine car.

“Does anyone have a pacemaker? This might be a little heart stopping,” she said. When everyone just gaped at her, smug smiles on their faces, she shrugged.

“Mr. Stark taught me this whenever people asked to drive his car,” she said, and the mention of Stark’s name seemed to amuse everyone further.

“This is Iron Man’s car?” one man asked, truly amazed.

Evelyn nodded, smiling brightly, “Sure thing. And it’s a magic car. It can show you if it likes you or not.”

Confused faces all around.

Evelyn nodded again, expecting their confusion. “See, I just…” she put a hand on the car’s make brand on the hood. Then she discreetly pulled some energy from the electricity lines along the street, and channeled it into their hands, using the hood as a conduit.

All the men jumped back, exclaiming in pain as the shock hit their hands.

“Put a hand on this car again, and it’ll do much worse,” she threatened as the men began to run away, eyes kept looking back at the car in fear.

Evelyn ignored the glances she received as people passed her on the sidewalk and unlocked the Porsche doors. By the time she got the car started, Stark opened the passenger door and stuck his head in, “I’m driving.”

Evelyn scoffed and stepped out of the car. Peter was at the edge of the sidewalk, trying to shrink himself out of existence, gripping the straps of his backpack.

She pulled the passenger chair forward and pointed with her hand. “In,” she said sternly.

“Oh, okay…” Peter said, stumbling into the backseat of the Porsche.

“Should’ve taken the mini-van,” Stark said as Evelyn pushed the passenger seat back in its place and slumped into it.

Evelyn scoffed as Stark pulled away from the sidewalk and sped into New York traffic, “Should’ve just taken the quinjet and landed on the roof.”

After a long silence of watching cars and busy streets pass by, Evelyn asked, “Where to next, Tony?”

“You ever been to the Facility upstate?” Stark asked Peter, looking at him through the rearview mirror.

“N-No, sir,” he said, his voice was small and intimidated.

“I didn’t even know there was a facility up state,” Evelyn said, watching cars pass by as Tony merged into the highway.

“Oh, it’s great,” he grinned. “Brand new, where we’ve been training all these new recruits.”

The moment he said “training recruits,” Evelyn knew it wasn’t an Industries facility. She perked up, ears ready to hear what she was excited about coming back for.

“And Wanda’ll be there!”

* * *

 

Stark pulled the Porsche into the Avengers Facility driveway after a quick security check by F.R.I.D.A.Y. as he passed the security gates.

But even before they could take in the sight of the buildings that stretch far into their vision, Peter unbuckled his seat and sat forward, peering in between the front seats, “There’s something wrong.”

He was proven right as Stark pulled the car closer to the facility. Tendrils of smoke rose from a field of grass, a dying fire at the source.

“Let’s hope that it’s just some kumbaya bonfire,” Stark said, slowing the car to a crawl, but not stopping.

But Evelyn observed the charred bits around the fire with the little light that it gave off, “No. Explosion marks.”

At those words, Stark floored the Porsche and practically flew towards the building’s entrance. Evelyn threw the door open and jumped out when he screeched to a halt.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., what’s happening,” Stark talked to his UI through a watch as he followed Evelyn to the entrance.

There was a crowd of presumed trainees gathering at the door, staring at the fire. Evelyn saw Helen Cho. At that same second, she was suddenly aware of her clavicle and how it didn’t fully belong to her. The doctor was part of the growing crowd, craning their necks at the fire, wanting to get closer.

“Dr. Cho?” Evelyn called out.

“Evelyn?” Cho had a confused look on her face. Her eyes landed on Stark behind her, and grew even more confused.

“What happened here?” Evelyn asked.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s been cut off from the building,” Stark said, total urgency in his voice.

“I don’t know, there was an explosion, and we all came to see it,” Cho said.

A girl chimed in beside Evelyn, “The Vision appeared for a second, but I don’t know where he went.” In the faint light, Evelyn observed the girl to be built, her tightly curled hair in a thick ponytail. She was in training attire, and the sweat giving a shine on her forehead and the sparring gear on her legs indicated combat training.

“Evelyn, deal with this,” Stark said before disappearing into the doors without a word to anyone.

_Shit._

“What’s your name?” Evelyn asked the girl, putting gravity in her voice.

“Manyara, ma’am,” she responded, acknowledging the authority that Evelyn pretended to have.

 _Ma’am?_ “Are you in charge Manyara?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You are now. Get everybody back in the building. If you know anyone qualified to disarm a bomb, have them on the ready. Assemble a team to assess the damage and the danger out there,” Evelyn nodded at the fire.

Manyara gaped at her for a second, then realized Evelyn was talking to her. Evelyn gaped back, waiting for her to confirm her instructions.

But there was no time for that. Evelyn dragged the girl to the front of the crowd, and whistled to catch their attention. When the panicked chatter settled into an attentive quiet, Evelyn began her instructions, “This building is on lockdown, and we’re on high alert. I don’t know what the hell just happened here, and I don’t think you do either. I’ve put Manyara in charge, she’ll know what to do.”

Manyara swallowed, nervousness apparent. But she started to bark orders, reluctantly and timidly at first, but grew more confident. People shuffled around Evelyn as they followed Manyara’s instructions.

“Where would Vision be? Do you know?” Evelyn stopped Cho before she could leave.

The doctor nodded, “West wing, probably top floor. That’s the Avenger’s residence is.”

“Take me there?” Evelyn asked.

Cho nodded. The doctor mirrored the nervousness that Evelyn was probably giving off.

“Parker!” Evelyn barked. Peter appeared by her side as he clumsily slung his backpack on his shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am?” he said nervously.

“Let’s go,” Evelyn said to both Cho and Parker.

The doctor nodded, and began briskly walking, sensing the urgency in the air. Evelyn followed, Peter behind her.

Evelyn walked through the Avengers Facility for the first time, and because of the calm chaos happening around her, she couldn’t be bothered to appreciate it.

* * *

 

After Evelyn sent the doctor on her way back down, she hijacked the security clearance door that Cho couldn’t get through with a miniscule movement of her fingers.

“How did you—?” Peter began his question, but Evelyn put a hand up.

She pushed the doors open, and found the floor quiet. There was a kitchen and a lounge facing each other. The windows on the far side of the room faced the fire on the field.

“Whoa,” Peter said.

“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?” Evelyn harshly whispered.

“You didn’t. And there’s no one here, and there’s a big hole on the floor,” he pointed out, the timidity in his voice disappearing in a second.

Evelyn missed the gaping hole through the floor and the darkness that beckoned within.

“How did you know there’s no one here?” Evelyn asked, her voice normal now. The only thing dangerous in the room was the hole. She detected no bio electric activities around her.

“It’s kind of my…uh… forte. My senses—”

“Are you Inhuman?” Evelyn asked. She turned to Peter, scanning his face for a lie.

The boy looked scared for a second at Evelyn’s examining look. But he gained composure, “No, ma’am. It’s a long story, but I didn’t do that rock transformation thing.”

“What else can you do?” she asked and approached the hole.

“I can make webs,” the timidity was back in Parker’s voice.

She snorted, “Like a spider?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of my…” he drifted off.

She approached the hole, something made her walk faster. _You can catch them,_ a voice inside said. There was helicopter destruction on the floor now, and Bucky and Cap were there, struggling to go separate ways. One wanted to go down, the other kept the other from falling. Evelyn was almost there, keep them from falling. But the helicopter teetered down. And that was it.

She was back in the dim light of the Facility with a gaping hole on the floor, a scream building in her throat. She hadn’t moved an inch.

“Can you see what’s down there?” she asked Peter, feeling the shakiness of her voice in her chest.

The boy complied, seeing the wreck she turned into in a brief second.

“There must be 12 floors at least,” he said. His voice sounded distant, disappearing into the abyss. But his fascination was apparent. He wanted to check it out.

Evelyn slowly stepped to the edge of the hole where Peter bravely stood. She couldn’t look down.

“Anything at the bottom?” she asked him. Her eyes went to the fire outside, and stared at it. If she stared at it enough, the hole would disappear and the feeling of pure fear would disappear. She saw figures approach the fire. The fire died quicker as the figures seemed to put it out.

“It looks like a person,” Parker claimed. But then there was panic grew in his voice. “And it’s coming.”

Evelyn took her attention away from the fire, and into the hole. She suppressed the need to throw up, and focus on the shadow rising, moving quickly. In a panic, she pulled energy from the building, and the lights flickered at the momentary interference. Then her right hand glowed blue from the almost tangible electricity.

“Whoa,” Peter stepped closer to the sight. “Electrokinesis? That’s way cool!”

Evelyn put an arm out, and stepped back, taking Peter with her.

“Your aunt’s going to kill me if you die,” Evelyn said. “So, get behind me and don’t die.”

The boy seemed to ridicule the idea, “I can take care—”

The shadow from the abyss materialized in front of them, a flash of red and blue and metal.

“Vision?” Evelyn blurted out, the energy in her hand dissipating back into the building’s electric lines. But she was still tense. Holes on the floor will do that to someone.

Peter was silent beside her, staring at the floating figure with amazement.

Vision hovered above the hole, a look of confusion deep in his inhuman face.

“Evelyn,” he said with J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice. But his eyes scanned the room.

“Where is everybody?” she asked the android, still searching the room. She spotted the knife on the floor, no blood on it. The panic for herself and the fall into the gap changed into panic for Wanda.

Vision dropped to solid ground, “Gone. Clint was here. It’s safe to assume he took Wanda. Mr. Wilson and Mr. Rogers, well…”

 _Shit._ Evelyn paced. Barton took her. Barton can’t tear holes into the ground like that. It must have been Wanda. She was willing. This must have been Steve pulling people by his side. He knew Stark would be coming for him.

“Shit,” Evelyn said out loud now, her hands rubbing her eyes. It was all going to shit. “None of this was supposed to happen,” she could feel a rant coming on. The panic was rising, it needed to be spent.

Before she could do anything about it, Stark walked into the room.

“Barton was here, and Wanda’s gone,” Evelyn said to him.

“ _What_?” Tony seethed. His eyes landed on Vision standing behind her, “I thought you had this handled?”

Before Vision could defend himself, Evelyn stepped forward and interrupted, “We don’t have time for this. What happened doesn’t matter anymore. We need to control this situation before it blows up in our faces.”

She paced, thinking, panicking. Why are they running? Where would they go? How’s Bucky?

That question put a stupor to her pacing.

Jesus, how was he. He would’ve eventually crashed from his programming, and when he crashes, he hits a low. Evelyn was there when his programming was triggered in Bucharest, and she was there when he crashed. And how he crashed. _Shit, shit, shit._

But they had Wanda now. She’d know what to do.

_And if she doesn’t?_

Then she needed to get to him before he went AWOL again.

There was no point in worrying about that now. GSG9’s looking for them, they’ll find them.

_And if they don’t? And if they disappear off the face of the earth? You can try the Tesseract portal thing again, but the last time was luck._

She began pacing again. _Shit, shit, holy shit._

Then a voice called her back into the present. It was Tony’s. He was calling a name. It was hers. Unrecognizable at first until he was inches from her, snapping in her face.

“Evelyn,” he called out, probably for the fifth time in the last minute.

She slapped his hand away as he poised for another snap, “ _What?_ ”

“I’m taking Peter down to the lab, you get some rest,” he said.

“ _What?_ ” she said again, but out of outrage this time. “Stark, I—”

“You did great today, but you need a nap. GSG9 still hasn’t found them. We have time.”

She glanced at her watch, but Stark put a hand on it and slipped it out of her wrist with a flourish.

“You’ll get this back after you nap,” he said, walking away, Peter at his tail.

“I believe he is correct, Ms. Akari,” Vision said. He grabbed her gently by the shoulders and guided her up some stairs. “The tenants of these rooms aren’t on the premises. Choose whichever you like.”

He gave her a gentle shove down the empty dark hallway, and disappeared into the floor with a change of density. And Evelyn walked. She couldn’t help but feel that this short walk was her life. Just keep moving without insight until you find a door, a decision.

But of course, it was different. She could pick a door, and go back if she didn’t like what was in it. But she couldn’t un-sign the Accords, she couldn’t un-lie to Steve, she couldn’t un-betray Bucky. That’s what it was wasn’t it? She had betrayed him. Going with Stark, going with the government that wanted his head was betrayal. She was logically on the right side of things. She was with the law; she didn’t have to run from it. But why did everything feel so wrong?

Evelyn picked the first door she groped in the dark and found the bed. She threw herself on it and sleep took her immediately. But before it did, she found herself wishing she’d never wake up and face the consequences of her actions.

* * *

 

_They were running. Always running. Bucky beside her, half grinning because she was slowly gaining on him. There was a shadow behind them, coming for them. Evelyn could feel the fear, but it wasn’t all there. Bucky was here, so it was okay. They just had to run. Into that door. The door at the far end. But the harder she ran, the slower she felt, and her legs stopped moving eventually. The door was a breadth away; she could reach it. Bucky was in, trying to pull her in. Joanna was behind her. Joanna, where’d she come from? Where did she go? She was screaming, they all were. The shadow was at Joanna’s feet, pulling, trying to snatch her. She pushed Evelyn, through the door, the bright blue void, Bucky was on the other side, and everything went dark._

Evelyn was being shaken awake, and it took time for her to realize she wasn’t in Bucharest anymore.

There was no one looking over her, though she was still being shaken. Earthquake? No, her arm was feeling a tug.

She looked on her left, and saw a branch of white sticking from her shoulder and stretching far from the other side of the room. Peter Parker had his arm out, connected to the white branch of—

“What the fuck is this?” Evelyn cried out, moving to the far said of the bed, trying to pull herself away from the thing stuck on her arm. At the same time, Peter fell forward at the tug of the string. He saw his hands were free, yet he was pulled along with the tensile thing.

She felt her eyebrows furrow in confusion and slight disgust, “Is this… from you?” She poked at it, feeling the slight stickiness at the touch, but nothing came off her finger.

Peter looked down in embarrassment, “Yeah. The web thing…”

But Evelyn settled, and nodded, “So, you trying to show off or what?”

The boy blushed even more, “Mr. Stark told me to wake you up.”

“With your _web thing_?”

He stuttered, trying to find the explanation, “He said that you shock anyone in a five-foot radius when you’re waken up. And a guy died once.”

She rolled her eyes, “The only guy dying here is you if you don’t get me out of this stuff.”

“Sorry,” he said before quickly making his way to her side and easily prying off the webbing on her arm. “Mr. Stark says they found him. And we’re leaving for Germany in 10 minutes.”

Evelyn nodded, and sat at the edge of the bed and stared at her socks. She expected Parker to leave, but she heard a quiet “Are you okay?”

She looked up at the kid. There was a look on his face. That waiting. She looked the same way the first time Stark brought her in. She wanted to satisfy, to impress, to be of use, to succeed. But there was real concern on his face.

“How old are you, Parker?” she said.

“15, ma’am,” he said, standing by the door.

“Why are you here?” she asked the intruding question.

He seemed confused by it.

“Do you know what Cap’s done? What Bucky’s done?”

“Who’s Bucky?”

Evelyn rolled her eyes, “I mean, why are you fighting?”

Parker shrugged, but she knew he had an answer. Evelyn let the silence make him spill. It only took a few seconds for him to speak.

“Mr. Stark says Captain America’s breaking the law, he thinks he’s right. He thinks just because he means well, he’s above the law, and that makes him dangerous,” his voice was quiet, almost unsure.

She knew what Cap’s actions meant. It meant precedence. If he and the rest of his team wasn’t caught, others could mirror his mindset, claim their actions were justified by their intentions. If Captain America’s own team couldn’t stop him, who’s to say other Enhanced would be stopped?

But this was Bucky for fuck’s sake.

“And what do you think?” she asked him, trying to distract herself from thinking.

The boy was visibly in a bind, expressing the conflict that Evelyn felt this whole time.

He shrugged, “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

Evelyn got up and started walking out, gently pushing Peter too, “So is Cap.”

(Proceed to Chapter 17B: Catastrophe [Morendo Ed Eeroico])

 


	21. 17A. Larger than Life (Fermato Con Fuoco)

Captain America led the formation as they abandoned their vehicles with their plainclothes inside. Bucky had to make fun of how her blue electric goggles made her look like an out of place skier, but it was her turn to laugh when the left arm of his suit ripped the moment he zipped it up.

When the arc reactor assembled on her chest a few minutes ago, Scott Lang was watching it with amazement, at least the most out of everyone.

Captain was now calmly barking orders at everyone without tearing his eyes away from the horizon as he walked with purpose, and everyone listened with soldier-like attention as they fitted their ears with communication devices that Clint stole from the Avengers Facility. Captain assigned Barton and Maximoff to stay on the parking deck, watch the exchange from higher ground, attack when necessary. The two branched off from the group when they spotted the stairs going up.

“Sam, Bucky, you’re in the terminal. Stark’s going to disable the chopper once I’m seen going for it. Find us another ride,” Steve commanded.

Wilson nodded and split off, and Bucky followed but not without placing a fleeting hand on the small of Evelyn’s back, quietly saying “Ai grija,” and she repeated it back to him.

“Lang, you’re with me,” he finished.

“And Iron Man’s daughter?” Lang asked excitedly.

Evelyn felt her stomach turn, “I’m not—”

Steve stopped walking, and both she and Lang stopped with him.

“Get a head start on Sam. Find their bus, and turn it into ours,” he said, not turning.

She couldn’t help but feel rejected, and useless. But it was Captain fucking America. He knew what he was doing.

“Do you expect things to be that simple?” she dared to ask though.

He smiled, “Of course not. But you need to stay out of it.”

“I could knock anyone out in ten seconds, tops, but whatever you say, Cap,” Evelyn said, almost bitterly.

“Recruiting Stark’s kid won’t really sit well with him,” Steve said with a grin.

Evelyn could’ve have laughed, but again, the circumstances. “As you say.” 

But before they could go their separate ways, she stopped Steve with a hand on his elbow, "Cap."

She showed him the flashdrive that had survived the chase through Bucharest and the fall in the water. "A year and a half. It's all in there. It's just code and tech. But you could get someone to figure it out."

Steve stared at the drive in her hand.  "You should keep it."

"It's safer with you than it is with me."

He hesitated, but he let Evelyn take his hand and wrap it around the drive. Bucky's notebooks were safe somewhere in this airport. They could come back for them. But this could be the last of the data.

"Don't lost it, Stevens," she just said, the embarrassing name unsettling him. Then she pushed him forward, getting on their way.

Only, as Evelyn followed them down the stairs and split up from them to round the perimeter, she was the one left unsettled. Captain was right: Stark was out there and Evelyn would just make it worse if she was there. Was his determination to government compliance and cooperation stronger than the importance in preventing the very infrastructure he was complying with from falling? At least, that’s how Evelyn thought the psychiatrist would work. Hit the government, then the rest would fall apart. She couldn’t answer that question no more than she could answer if he still trusted her.

Before she could figure out that conundrum, Wilson spoke through comms, “We’re in position, Redwing deploying in three, two, and one.”

“Can you scan the perimeter before I stick my neck out?” Evelyn whispered as she stopped running before she could set foot on the tarmac exposed under the sun. There was a field of grass a long ways away, a fence after that. Other than that, there was nothing she could see.

“You’re all clear on the south end, Evie,” Barton said.

“North perimeter clear,” Bucky came on, and Evelyn’s heart did backflips like a 15-year-old.

“Redwing scanning east and west now,” cut in Wilson.

“I have eyes on the chopper,” said Captain. “Lang, do your thing.”

Then she felt a mobile electrical whirring before she heard the buzz of a flying object. She tensed up, and her fingers drilled, ready to pull energy.

“Relax, its Redwing, this side’s clear,” Wilson said as his drone got into Evelyn’s sights. “South and west runways don’t have any buses. If you follow little Redwing here, we’ll show you to the likeliest location.”

“That’s weird, but okay,” she muttered Redwing flew away and she followed with a steady jogging pace.

“I’m all set, Captain,” Scott Lang buzzed in.

“Everybody ready?” Rogers said.

There were variations of “All sets” and “good to gos” from everyone, including Evelyn’s “aye, aye.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Evelyn choked, muffling her word as Rhodes flew in with his iron suit above her. “I’m okay, but Rhodes is approaching,” she said, breathing heavy as she tried to catch it. She was leaning against a concrete wall, Redwing flying away from her sight.

“A little too late for that warning,” Barton muttered.

Faint voices were coming through, Evelyn couldn’t pick apart the speakers. “Who’s there?”

“Your dad and Rhodes are in the air,” Wilson said, talking over Captain’s dialogue.

Evelyn just rolled her eyes, thinking that her annoyance would clog up the comms. Still, her heart was racing. She could go out there, right now, apologize to Tony, explain the situation, why she had to run, why they were doing this. But Captain’s orders kept her steady. Anyway, no matter how hard she apologized, she’d still be a fugitive, and Bucky would still be taken in, he’d get shrunk, prod around inside there. God knows he had enough of that.

“Evelyn, your side is clear, keep running,” said Wilson.

 _Side was presumably clear the last time, and basically the bane of my existence flew past, what’s with that?_ Evelyn thought to herself as she muttered a “Copy” and started to jog in Redwing’s direction. The field scenery changed into hangars with their doors shut spaced out with great distance. She was getting nearer to wherever she was supposed to be.

A golf cart was parked in front of the hangar labeled 0, and she gladly sprinted to it. Evelyn didn’t waste a moment as she jumped in. She tried to resist muttering the word “key” under her breath, over and over.

 _Idiot,_ I’m _the key_ , she thought, remembering. With a twist of her hand and arc reactor juice, the cart’s engine hummed to life, and Evelyn pressed on the gas and sped forward. _When did I learn how to drive this?_ Had to be S.H.I.E.L.D., right?

Evelyn could hear the lying in Rogers’s voice as he spoke to Tony. It wasn’t lying, just the tone of deception as he stalled the others.

“We found a bus. _Their_ bus. The quinjet’s in hangar five,” Wilson said.

“Passing hangar 3, be there in a minute,” Evelyn muttered to them as Hangar 3 went past with open doors and a runway behind it.

“We needed you there yesterday,” Wilson said, and she could almost see the stupid grin on his face.

“Golf carts aren’t that fast,” she defended.

“Alright, Lang,” Captain said, giving the signal between them.

That felt like a signal to her too, as she buried the accelerator and drilled her fingers on the wheel, ready for shit to hit the fan.

Then explosions to the left erupted, just behind the long stretch of the airport terminal.

She would have asked the burning question (WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?), but it was safe to assume Stark’s team had escalated to violence. Where else was this supposed to go? She could hear distant explosions, then nearing, the constant whizzing of iron suit flights. Only the airport terminal to her left separated her and the commotion. The stretch would end before she would reach the hangar, and she would see the shit and carnage everyone was throwing at each other.

She slammed on the breaks, almost knocking her head on the windshield. The last hangar on her right was labeled 4, the next thing to it was a runway, past that was a small power plant.

“Where the fuck is 5?” Evelyn half-screamed in agitation into her earpiece. The building to her left ended and became open air, strewn with airplanes, loading stairs, and containers, some of them on fire.

When Evelyn picked up with the audio feed, a mess of furious grunting and commands. She picked out a “NOW” from Lang, and as if on cue, a huge explosion erupted to her left in the distance, the heat wave reaching her in a few seconds.

There was a moment of silence in the airport expanse, and Evelyn heard “What do we do, Cap?” from Sam.

“Evie, the hangar is past the plant,” she heard Bucky address her breathlessly, though quiet, afraid to disrupt the stillness.

“We fight,” Cap answered, then she only heard the clash, as if 6 car crashes at the same time, cries of war in between.

But Evelyn had to do her job so they won’t have to fight much longer. She turned her eyes, and behind crates and airplanes in her line of sight and past the plant, a hangar had its doors wide open, flashing the dark gray metal of the Stark quinjet with a radio tower looming beside it. Evelyn’s foot found the accelerator and floored it, but before she could move two yards, an angry yellow beam ripped the ground in front of her apart. Her foot found the breaks and her forehead found the windshield this time, and she was looking up at Vision hovering above her.

“Fuck,” she managed to whisper. “Vision’s here, and broken off from the thick of it,” she said to her earpiece, but no one seemed to listen, involved in their own fight.

She stumbled out of the cart and on stable ground, head pounding.

“I can’t let you proceed, Evelyn,” Vision called out to her.

Evelyn found her footing, and her fingers drilled, the spines of the arc reactor device pulsing electricity through its metal veins. Her hands were crackling with electricity now, poised to attack.

“You don’t know me too well to be telling me what to do,” Evelyn said. “And even then, I just consider it.” Her left foot stepped back in tandem with her right elbow pulling back. The electricity in her hand flew forward in a strike of lightning at Vision.

Vision dropped to the ground, groaning at Evelyn’s energy overload, resisting to curl up into a ball. He was transparent, and Evelyn could see the Hangar 5 through him.

The arc reactor was electrically hot on her chest, working to accommodate her output. Only, Vision was incapacitated for just a brief moment, and he was standing tall now.

Evelyn felt the stone on his forehead muster energy of a whole power plant, as if materializing energy out nowhere. His eyes landed on the arc reactor, and ( _shit_ ) she could only put her hands in front of the battery on her chest when the bright beam erupted from the stone. She found herself on the ground, taking the heat from Vision’s energy beam.

“What the hell,” she exclaimed hoarsely. She felt the energy surge through her body as she absorbed the beam. The energy he was blasting her with wasn’t the usual coldness that electricity gave her. It was warm, foreign, and exhilarating, and she couldn’t help but shiver at the unfamiliarity.

“You trying to kill me?” she screamed at him.

“Just incapacitate,” he said grimly.

The warmth cut off when Vision came flying at her, and she rolled away before he could punch her reactor in.

“That would’ve broken my ribcage, Vision. I only have one vibranium bone,” she said getting up.

She was on her feet now, but Vision gained his senses too and was now throwing a barrage of punches. Evelyn was aware of his density manipulation, and could do nothing but dodge his attacks by ducking under his swings, jumping away occasionally, trying to slowly make her way to the hangar.

Vision tried to take another shot at her arc reactor, but she felt the stone on his forehead charge up again and she put her hands up to catch the beam. She focused the energy she was absorbing in to output, and she was fighting his laser with his own. The warm energy was as easily malleable as electricity, only the yellow beam came out of the palms of her hands infused with blue veins of her electricity. Evelyn pushed back at Vision, her arc reactor getting hot, her arms getting sore, her vision taking in more sights than ever at the amount of energy coursing through her. Still, she pushed back at Vision’s beam, taking struggling steps forward until she was walking, his resistance weakening with every step she took. Then the beam started climbing down, trying to get at her arc reactor, and Evelyn’s arms went sideways in weakness, and with it, the thread of energy broke sideways.

Vision and Evelyn stared at each other quietly for a moment, her eyes staring more daggers than he was, evaluating each other’s next move. Evelyn had moved forward farther than she thought, the quinjet only a quarter mile away. Then the silence between them erupted when the beam from his stone erupted, preventing Evelyn from taking another step forward and she put her hands out to take the heat once more.

Then the commotion in Evelyn’s ear piece had focused, and Bucky was speaking.

“We gotta go, that guy’s in Siberia by now,” he said, quietly, breathless.

“We gotta draw out the fliers, I’ll take Vision, you go to the jet,” Captain responded in her ear piece.

“I got Vision, Cap, and I’m a breath away from the jet,” Evelyn said, still pushing Vision’s beam back with her own corrupted version.

Captain crackled in her ear, “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of the fight?”

“The fight found me, Captain,” she screamed now, increasing her output.

“Evelyn, you cannot fight me,” Vision said in front of her, still trying to aim his energy beam at her arc reactor.

“I obviously can,” she said. There was agreement and a small glint of fear in Vision’s synthetic eyes, and her electricity overpowered his stone’s beam and Vision was thrown back with a crack of thunder around her.

 _Shit._ She resisted the urge to scream in invigoration and hurl at the same time as she was down on all fours, trying to recollect her senses. Evelyn lifted her head, and successfully stood. Her vision was clear now, and Hangar 5 was close.

“I’m literally right in front of the jet,” Evelyn said to the team as she got on her feet and started running in the direction of the hangar, never mind her body telling her to stop.

Wilson spoke in her ear, “Evelyn, I can see you. ‘Literally’ is an exaggeration.”

“I’m closer to it than anyone,” she defended.

“Evelyn set up the jet, you old men go. Everyone else, stay behind and hold the others back,” Wilson said.

Barton cut in, and a few explosions in the distance with it, “As much as I hate to admit it, if we’re going to win this one, some of us might have to lose it.”

Wilson came in, “This isn’t the real fight, Steve.”

Evelyn could almost hear the resistance in Steve’s sigh, but he spoke, “Alright, Sam, what’s the plan?”

“We need a diversion, something big,” Wilson said.

Evelyn felt a source of energy near her, and when she turned her head, Rhodes was flying by, arm out to aim.

 _Shit._ Her legs ran a little faster, something she thought was impossible since the screaming of her legs and the unbelievable breathlessness she was choking on indicated said impossibility. She kept looking back and saw a familiar object flew out of his left gauntlet, but before the Faraday collar could implant itself on her neck, Wilson came in and shot the little shit out of existence.

“You have no idea how grateful I am,” Evelyn muttered, hoping Sam would hear.

“I got something kind of big,” Scott Lang buzzed in. “But I can’t hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell—”

“I’m already on the 9th circle of running like hell,” Evelyn interrupted.

Still, Scott continued, “—and if I tear myself in half, don’t come back for me.”

“He’s tearing himself in half?” Bucky said unbelieving.

“You sure about this, Scott?” Captain said.

“I do it all the time. I mean once…in a lab. And I passed out,” said Scott, his short breaths indicated he was running.

“That’s reassuring,” Maximoff came on.

Scott was now muttering under his breath, “I’m the boss, I’m the boss, I’m the boss…”

She was a hair’s breadth away from the quinjet, she could reach out and touch it in a couple of steps, when Scott screamed and a rumbling broke out behind her.

Evelyn stumbled at the sight of a gigantic Scott Lang in his suit, grabbing Rhodes by the ankle. Her whole body was aching, but she shifted on her back to stare at the sight of a real live giant before her, rendering her speechless. Scott was laughing maniacally through the comms, and everyone was just as speechless as Evelyn when she was listening to nothing but radio silence and laughter.

Her eyes spotted Captain and Bucky half a mile away, just standing there, staring. The sight shook her out of her amazement.

“Are y’all running like hell or what?” she screamed, getting to her feet.

Wilson was laughing now too, “Way to go, tic-tac!”

There was metal groaning and more explosions behind Evelyn as she sprinted into the hangar, getting under the hangar’s shade.

Evelyn sprinted into the open jet, but before she could turn it on, a wave of nausea hit her and she was on all fours again, the hard metal floor of the jet shocked her knees. She was feeling unusually warm. Energy sickness always caught up to her, but this was Vision’s energy, and it unnerved her that it made her this sick and so differently.

Still, she managed not to suck the energy out of everything and to power the jet on with the arc reactor, the engine roaring to life. She felt the arc reactor depleting, almost spent. Had the fight with Vision really taken that big a toll?

_Obviously, since you can’t breathe without dry heaving and your heart’s going on tachycardia._

“Jet’s powered ready to go,” she said, barely keeping her insides from spilling out of her open mouth. “Can’t really fly it, though.”

There was so much talking and exclaiming through the comms, she had a hard time picking out individual voices. Someone was introducing themselves, someone was screaming about something flying in them. They were all blending together. It didn’t really help with the mess that her mind was, how loud everything was, how she seemed to see and hear and feel everything and nothing.

“Evelyn?” a voice behind her. Female. Nat.

Evelyn turned lightning fast, her palms out ready to use the arc reactor again. But Nat had her hands up. She was standing in front of the open bay door.

“Relax, I’m not here to fight anymore,” said Nat. “You okay?”

Evelyn relaxed, sitting on the floor, giving her trust to Nat.

Then something spilled out of her mouth, “Why weren’t you there?”

Nat cocked her head, but she knew what Evelyn was talking about, “Where?”

“At the funeral,” Evelyn said, her tears beginning to manifest.

“I _was_ at the funeral,” Nat said, but she was only baiting.

“You know whose funeral I’m talking about,” Evelyn snarled for a second. Then she relaxed her face. Otherwise, she would’ve broken down right there. “And at Budapest, and everywhere else after that.”

“Evelyn,” Nat began stepping closer to her.

“You should’ve been there, Nat! She was from the old days. We’re the only ones that remember her. You should’ve been there,” Evelyn’s scream had fizzled out. She felt the tears go now. They weren’t heavy. She couldn’t spare that for Nat.

Then Nat had her arms around her, “I know she was from the old days. We’re from her old days, too. I thought I’d be hurting you more if you saw me. I thought I’d be a reminder.”

Evelyn found her arms wrapped around Nat too, “I’m starting to forget her.”

“Oh, Evie,” Nat stroked her hair.

Amidst everything that was happening around them, there was a calmness here.

Then Evelyn pulled away, “We gotta go, Nat. We can’t stay here.”

“I know,” Nat nodded and smiled sadly. “I’m letting you go.”

Evelyn nodded back, relaxing on the floor of the quinjet again. Then her eyes landed on her Bites cuffed to her wrist. “Hit me with that,” she requested, trying not to throw up.

“What? Why?” Nat was confused now.

“My heart is literally beating too fast,” Evelyn begged, shutting her eyes,

“And how is this—”

“ _Just do it_!” she screamed now.

Nat lifted her hand, and a disc flew out and landed on her shoulder, a surge of nice, cold energy breathing through her skin. The disc didn’t crackle like it did with others since Evelyn took everything in gladly. She grabbed the disc off her shoulder and held it on her hand as she returned the energy, exchanging electricity crackles.

“Vision might have messed me up. The energy he threw at me, it fucked with my heart nodes. It’s like I was overdosing on adrenaline. Fuck, I probably was.” Evelyn explained, but when she opened her eyes to thank Nat, she was gone.

There was another explosion, and the jet rumbled. Evelyn panicked for a second, thinking that it was taking off, but when she looked out of the jet’s windshields, blocks of cement and barring were falling in front of the hangar. The panic shifted into a different kind, the kind that one would have when the realization "crushed to death" was a cause of death that could be written on an autopsy.

A wave of relief washed over her when Captain and Bucky emerged from the falling rubble in a sprint, meeting Nat in front of the jet. Another wave of panic came over her when T’Challa appeared quietly behind them, then another wave of relief when Nat disabled him with her Bite.

“Jesus, shit,” she whispered to herself as she sat down behind the right pilot seat in relief, letting her heart settle.

Captain and Bucky clambered into the jet with their heavy footsteps, Captain sat himself on the left pilot seat, and Bucky beside her, the bay door closing behind them.

“Took you long enough,” Evelyn muttered, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. The foreign energy was working its way out of her, and into Nat’s Bite. She held her hand out, and Bucky squeezed it, not letting go.

Captain hit some switches and pressed some buttons in silence, and the jet was airborne.

“You two buckled in?” Steve said, prompting Evelyn’s eyes to open and get strapped in.

As they rose in the air, Steve pulled on some joysticks and fired on the debris in front of them, clearing the opening.

Evelyn spotted the giant disappear before her eyes when Scott Lang buzzed in the comms, “Does anyone have any orange slices?”

She heard a weak “I’m sorry” from Maximoff as they flew out of the airport and got into German airspace.

“We’re in the air. Good luck,” Evelyn said before the earpiece crackled off. She was glad not to have to anyone’s heart wrenching sighs of defeat as they went gently.

After a few minutes of Captain pushing the limits of the jet, he broke the tense silence, “We’re clear.”

A collective sigh came out of Bucky and Evelyn at the news that they wouldn’t be shot down.

Evelyn let the tired silence in the jet take her, let the feeling of Bucky beside her comfort her, let energy sickness and fatigue put her to sleep.

* * *

 

_Writing, neat handwriting. She said so. Who said so? She did. White room, testing. S.H.I.E.L.D. Flashing lights, can’t move. Screaming, gone. Fury, a ghost, never seeing. Denial. Can’t breathe. Blood. Happy to. Jumping. No, falling. River. The shack. Return. Revenge. Rescue. Joanna. Stark. Steve. Darkness. Screaming. Lights. Warmth. Explosions. Sickness. Blood. Your fault._

 

Evelyn was pulled out of the horror of her subconscious with cold sweats and sheets tangled around her. The sky was zooming past her. Was she flying? Still dreaming. Shit. No, still in the jet. Not tangled in sheets, stuck in the seatbelts. She realized she was tense once she relaxed at the realization of where she was.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky’s voice snapped her out of her confusion. He had his hands on the jet controls now, Steve passed out on the seat next to him.

Evelyn sat up, and nodded. “Yeah,” her voice all hoarse from sleep. “How long have I been out?”

“About an hour, I took the helm just about an thirty minutes ago and Steve crashed. Everyone's really tired, I guess,” Bucky didn’t take his eyes off the sky.

“How long until Siberia?”

Bucky shrugged, “I don't know. I've slowed the jet down to commercial. I won’t really know the place until I see it.”

Evelyn’s heart was in her throat, it seems it has never left that spot since the inhibiting collar was clanked on her neck. The only thing that kept changing was the reasons why it was there. It was once the fear of killing Stark’s trust, then Bucky in general, and now it was the concept of fighting to her death against almost invincible and essentially robotic super soldiers.

“Hey, Evie, I’m sorry,” Bucky filled her worried silence.

 _Shit._ Evelyn never knew what to do with his apologies because whatever he was apologizing for wasn’t his to apologize for. Still, whatever came out his mouth always broke her.

“James, whatever you’re going to say, it’s not—”

“I hurt you, real bad,” Bucky said, his voice almost breaking. “You’re one of the few people I thought I couldn’t hurt, that I could fight hard enough for.”

 _Shit_. “Oh, c’mon Buck, it’s nothing. It’s just…” she didn’t know what to say. Anything she tried, he’d know it was a lie to comfort him.

“No, no, back at the airport. I started remembering,” he was quiet now, voice scratchy.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._ “Jesus, James, that wasn’t your fault,” she pleaded from her seat. “I should’ve done as you asked when you got like that. Remember? I promised I would. I should’ve moved quicker, I should’ve been smarter,” she was running her mouth now, but it was true. She should’ve crossed her line in a heartbeat just so Bucky wouldn’t have to be like this.

He was trembling now, and that was her cue. She unbuckled herself from her seat and scrambled to the flight control panel. She found the commands for going on autopilot and pressed the buttons.

Bucky blubbered out, still shaking, “I shouldn’t have asked that of you. It’s all my fault, everything—”

Evelyn knelt beside him and took his shaking hands from the controls and held them in hers. Even his metal arm was shaking, electrical activity erratic. Still, she held them tight until both of his hands were warm in hers, “Hey, hey, no, look.” She talked over him until he eventually stopped, “Look, you have to stop talking like you’re trying to convince yourself that it’s your fault because I’m telling you that it’s not. It’s _not_ , Bucky.”

She recalled the last time she had to say this, back in Bucharest, when the memories hit them both too hard. It broke her to still be saying this, that she hadn’t helped him enough by now. But if it was reassurance he needed, it’s what he was getting.

Evelyn continued, her hold on his hands getting tighter, “All those things you’ve done, that wasn’t you. HYDRA did that. You didn’t hurt me. That psychiatrist did. If you had a choice, you wouldn’t have done it, and that’s what matters. You wouldn’t have done it.”

“Evelyn—”

“ _You wouldn’t have done it,_ ” she repeated in Romanian for good measure, holding his eyes with hers, his hands in hers.

He was looking at her with those sad and old eyes that she rarely saw. Even at way past breaking point, he still broke her. His soft fingers wiped away the tears from her face that she didn’t notice fell.

“I love you, too,” he said in a raspy voice, the sad look on his face.

She looked up at him, “What?”

“On the phone. You said. I didn’t want to call you back because I would’ve said it too. And I didn’t want to do that because I’d end up hurting you.”

Evelyn recalled her accidental blurb, but, now, with thought, it wasn’t an accident. She had known that fact for a while, for too long, never saying it, always thinking it. Right then, she felt her brain look for something to say, some confirmation, “I…”

He wasn’t finished, “But I realized, I already had hurt you. And you’re still here. And all that time of me not wanting to love you because I would hurt you was loving you. And all I can do now is return it a hundredfold.”

Evelyn broke out into a smile and stood up. “I never wanted to say it because…”

Bucky nodded at her pause, understanding. Evelyn tried not to love the people that loved her because they ended up dead. It only takes one time.

“But you can’t die,” Evelyn smiled wider at the memory of her promise back in Bucharest. “You’re going to live forever. So, I love you, too, too.”

She thought she was sparing the people she loved by not loving them, but that was a mistake. There was no life in that.

Evelyn followed her impulse and planted a kiss between his eyes, “We’re okay. We’re really okay. After all of this shit happens, we’re going back to that little shop across the street because you owe me some placinta dobrogeana. I’ve been craving some since that damn morning.”

Bucky chuckled, “And your strawberries.”

Evelyn laughed out loud now, “My damn strawberries.” She playfully slapped his shoulder, “You couldn’t have held on to them a little longer?”

“Hey, I didn’t get to have my plums either, so…” Bucky gave a small smile at her, giving into the banter.

“Your damn plums,” Evelyn nodded. “Eyes on the sky, James, before autopilot crashes us straight into the face of a mountain and kills us before we finish this thing.” Going back on her words, she boldly grabbed his face and kissed him, and he held it, and it was just them again, and it all came back: the smell of Bucharest mornings, the warmth of Bucky’s metal arm pressing against her back, the warm space he left on her bed when he departed for work in the morning, the cold nights sitting out the balcony just basking in each other’s silence, eating, listening to the cars below, feeling the night sky pass by.

“I’m serious about flying us away from a face of a mountain,” Evelyn said, pulling away from his now grinning mouth.

A deep breath from behind Evelyn, and Steve was awake, staring at them.

Evelyn felt her face burn, “Did you want a kiss too, Captain?”

“Hey,” Bucky pouted.

It was Steve’s turn to burn in embarrassment. Still, he smiled and shook his head, stuttering.

“He’s strictly into bureaucrats now,” Bucky said, matching Evelyn’s mischievous smile.

“Us fugitives-slash-criminals won’t do,” Evelyn said, winking at Captain.

Bucky laughed now, sending a chill down Evelyn’s back. Another chill made her shiver when Captain’s face fell flat and a cold silence fell between the three of them. Evelyn turned to see Bucky staring blankly ahead at the distance. That expression she often saw when he was writing, remembering.

There, a small mound of snow sat plainly on the white flatness of a mountain, and nothing else in sight but white blankness and dark peaks domineering the flat expanse.

She took her hand off of Bucky’s shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, and began pulling her hair up with a hair tie.

“Suit up,” Evelyn muttered

* * *

 

The harsh Siberian wind had cut Evelyn even before the doors opened completely, and she was the first out of the quinjet. She basically jumped out and ran to the door of the HYDRA bunker to get out of the cold, but not without muttering _fuck_ s under her breath. Who would’ve thought she would ever be running towards HYDRA’s arms again?

She still had to wait at the bunker door for Cap and Bucky to pry the heavy doors open, resisting the urge to curl up into a ball to preserve her warmth. She pushed past the two men, finding refuge from the sharp wind in the cold dank walls of the bunker.

Every step, no matter how quiet, was enough to set the three of them on edge. It was as if behind every footfall was a super soldier rushing to attack, behind every breath was a war cry. The paranoia got even worse when Bucky told them to take the elevator, lowering them into the freezing hell, shutting them off from the outside world. She fucking hated the place.

Evelyn was running point, stepping forward through the cold halls cautiously, trying to detect the slightest bio-electric signature in the place, fingers drilling, ready to use the arc reactor. It was only the three of them for now.

“Remember when the central heating broke?” Bucky asked with a nervous voice, breaking the silence of the bunker with a soft whisper.

She mustered a soft chuckle, “Yeah. And I thought that was cold.” She swiped her arms with her hands, stopping her finger drillings to warm herself with movement. Then she hugged herself, and the cold steel of the knives from the quinjet on her hips.

“Mihai refused to fix it, and you had to fix it yourself,” Bucky mused, and she could hear his small smile. But she could hear the nerves, too. And she felt her own nerves.

“I don’t think this place has central heating I can shock into function,” she said, and the cold of the building seemed to get sharper with each second.

The twisting and turning of the corridors changed as she cautiously climbed a flight of stairs that probably led into more twisting and turning of ominous corridors.

Before she could proceed down a dark hallway blowing a breeze, metal began groaning behind them. Evelyn jumped with a _fuck_ under her breath, and her hands were now crackling with electricity, poised to injure. Bucky practically threw himself in front of her, gun pointed at the sound, Captain threw himself in front of his best friend, shield ready to go. Still, the throwing worked, and they were in formation, ready to kill.

It was a slow, agonizing wait for the doors to open. The crackling on Evelyn’s hands somehow grew louder, bigger, waiting to make thunder.

A familiar circular glow bled between the opening metal doors, and for a moment, Evelyn thought she was hallucinating. Did old mysterious bunker gases made you hallucinate?

“Y’all seem a little defensive,” Stark said, as he pried the doors completely open, swaggering towards them, clad in his iron suit, eyes and reactor glowing in the dim bunker.

“It’s been a long day,” Captain said.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Evelyn said, relaxing, taking a seat on the top of the stairs. Bucky still had his gun trained at Stark, stance unrelenting, ready to shoot at Captain’s command.

Stark shrugged, iron mask opening with a smooth clink, “Didn’t think it would really count because we’re both intruders here.” He took one glance at Bucky, not menacing, only the nonchalant look everyone else saw, “At ease soldier, I’m not after you at the moment.”

“Then why are you here?” Steve asked. He sounded relaxed, but his shield was up and he was walking cautiously as he approached Tony.

Before Stark could answer, Evelyn butt in, “It’s because he realizes he was wrong, and we’re right.”

Stark was grinding his teeth under a smile, “The old men here are right, but you, you little shit, have a ton of paperwork to handle if you keep running your mouth like that.”

Evelyn snorted, “You just don’t like it said out loud. Besides, you would’ve arrested me already if you had to.”

Stark smiled grimly, “Don’t tempt me, I could still do it.”

“It’s good to see you, Tony,” Captain declared.

Stark nodded, “You too, Cap.” Then he broke his eyes away from Steve, taking a glance at Bucky and Evelyn at the steps, “Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you’re killing me. There’s a truce here.”

Evelyn could have laughed, but again, the circumstances. Bucky lowered his gun once Cap lifted a hand to put him at ease.

“Do we have a civilization to save from toppling, or what?” Stark said, and the mask of his suit clanking closed.

Cap nodded, face turning grimmer at the reminder of their purpose, “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

“How much legal trouble am I in?” Evelyn asked softly, as she tread beside Stark.

He gladly took point, repulsor brandished, clanking heavily through the halls. Cap and Bucky followed behind with quiet footsteps.

“Not as much as you are with me. What the hell were you thinking? Lying to me? Running off like that?”

 _Shit._ “I didn’t lie, I _was_ following my hunch. I didn’t mean to run off, I just got caught up in the fight. I wanted to…” her voice gave out.

There wasn’t much of a fight when Evelyn got to the helipad in Berlin, but Evelyn tried to save them from the fall.

He sighed, his frustration barely coming through the vocal output of the iron suit, “Well, there aren’t any big consequences. You’re only named an accessory to terrorism, and Ross One and Two want your ass in the deepest prison on this planet.”

“I feel so popular,” she only said. Their anger was dust, nothing mattered but this. But… “What happens after this? You’re going to have to arrest me, right?”

Bucky spoke without turning around, “We won’t let him do anything, Evie.”

Stark scoffed, “Relax, Icicle. The only person that knows I’m here is Best Friend for Life Sammy. If the government knew, then I’d have to arrest myself.”

“You already have too much paperwork on my account, wouldn’t want to add on to that,” Evelyn said, letting a hint of bitterness show through.

“We’ll deal with that later. For now, we just need to get rid of these soldiers. Maybe after that, some official pardons. Worst case scenario, you disappear off the face of the earth. Got it?” Stark said.

The silence between the four of them might have been a signal of glad agreement or a battle of personal moral choices. Captain would have to be prosecuted for evading arrest and aiding a fugitive, Evelyn for that _and_ complete disregard of human life, and Bucky for much worse. Keep evading the law until it bites all of them in the ass with the worst teeth possible? Or surrender and take the punishment? _Shit._

But they would only be prosecuted if they came out of this bunker alive. What government struggling to keep themselves from dying at the hands of HYDRA super soldiers would arrest their cold dead bodies?

“Jesus, how old is this place? Why does it feel like there are bodies of dead workers in the walls?” Tony broke the silence, desperate to make any type of noise besides paranoid footsteps.

“It’s young enough to have its generator still powering the whole building,” Evelyn stated, glad for the subject change. She felt the electrical pulses once she entered the building, the source of it buried so deep that she thought demons would steal her soul if she searched long and deep enough.

They walked in silence for a while, silently picking their way with fearful blindness. There was a hesitation in their steps. Evelyn wanted to stop, but the only thing keeping her moving was everyone else stepping forward. She didn’t want to be left behind either, she wanted to blow past them, kill the threats, and get the hell out. She was scared as shit to do either.

“I got heat signatures,” Stark said suddenly as the rounded a corner.

 _Shit._ “And bio-electric activity,” Evelyn declared.

“How many?” Cap asked.

Then a pulse, distant. If it wasn’t for the excitement in the bio-electric, she wouldn’t have felt it. “One,” Evelyn said.

“Just one,” Stark concurred.

They emerged into darkness, but from their echoing steps and the emptiness that increased, it was a large darkness. Upon their crossing of the threshold, six cryo-chambers switched on, disgusting orange light magnified with the steaming liquid nitrogen.

Leaking.

 _Shit._ Evelyn was expecting to get hit now, to die, to get shot, however the super soldiers liked to harvest souls, but nothing touched her apart from the weird smell in the air of the dark green atrium.

“If it’s any comfort,” said a familiar voice, speakers projecting. “…they died in their sleep.”

They all stopped at the sound of the voice, but Evelyn moved forward faster, wanting to get closer, detect any bio-electric activity that she could overload before they could hurt anyone.

“Evelyn,” Captain called out as a warning.

She ignored it, moving closer to the nearest piss-lit tube.

Upon closer inspection, tubes ran from the super soldier bodies below and disappeared up the murky glass tube. The leaking chambers held the sleeping soldiers. No, no bio electric activity detected. There were holes in the glass, cracks sourcing from the bullet holes, liquid nitrogen oozing out, barely allowing the image of their dead bodies to come through. She almost heaved at the sight.

The speakers blared on again, “Did you really think I wanted more of you?”

There was no visible source of the voice, but Evelyn found the speakers, then wires, then microphone in two breaths. It was in the darkness ahead, the faint bio-electric activity getting stronger with each step she too forward.

 “What the hell,” Evelyn heard Bucky whisper under his breath, seeing the corpses in detail.

Evelyn paced towards the source, approaching an ominous metallic chair attached to computers meant to discharge massive amounts of electricity.

 _Shit_. That’s where it happened for Bucky, and echoed for her. She was suddenly frozen at the spot, staring at the chair, at the straps at its side, at the still ticking computers.

“I am grateful to them though…” the voice said. He had an accent. Like Wanda’s. “…they brought you here.”

In the darkness in front of them, a switch flipped and a face emerged from the black. Lit behind a small window in a sheltered wall was a man with a soft face full of fury. He must have had a happy face, lived a life of love, laughter lines around his eyes, but it was shrouded with anger and vengeance. Evelyn could’ve taken pity on him, but again, the circumstances.

Behind her, Stark charged up his repulsor and Steve threw his shield, the sound of it flying giving Evelyn enough time to duck before it hit the metal in front of them and fly back into Captain’s hand.

“A little warning would be cool next time,” Evelyn muttered. But her eyes went back to the chair, with the arm rests and the head guard. Wires everywhere, idle electricity in its veins, computers dusty. It haunted her. It made her head hurt, like she was on the chair herself, like she was remembering the sleepless nights of the echoes of pain. But no pain Evelyn felt could ever match up to what Bucky had to go through.

She saw Bucky at the corner of her eye, still inspecting the corpses of his past comrades, but his heart was racing and his eyes were finding themselves back to the chair. At the moment, Evelyn didn’t know what to do but keep staring at the chair. Maybe if she looked, then he didn’t have to.

The face in the dim lit window gave a small smirk, “Please, Captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

_What the hell is this? Who is this guy?_

The three of them went around the little amphitheater that held the chair, passing Evelyn as they stepped closer to the window, all still cautious.

“I’m betting I could beat that,” Stark called out.

“Oh, I’m sure you could, Mr. Stark, given time. But you’ll never know why you came,” said the psychiatrist, voice getting smugger each second.

“We don’t need to,” Evelyn said, turning to Steve and Tony. She didn’t like the air, she didn’t like the feeling in this deep place. “We can leave right now and leave him to die in this freezer. The super soldiers are dead, what threat is there?”

Steve paid her no mind, taking the doctor’s bait. But to what trap? What was happening?

Captain was face to face with the doctor now, nothing but a pane of glass and a few layers of metal separating them, “You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?”

The doctor took a deep breath, monologue coming on, “I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you are standing here, I just realized… there’s a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.” He gave a small chuckle.

“What the fuck?” Evelyn said, her voice only coming out to a whisper. Something was wrong with this guy, with this place, with this moment.

There was a silence between them, as if the doctor was trying to let his casual cruelty sink in.

Then Steve spoke up, “You’re Sokovian. Is this what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No, I’m here because I made a promise,” said the doctor, tone growing ominous.

“You’ve lost someone,” Captain hesitated to guess.

It was the doctor’s turn to hesitate. Evelyn saw his frown grow deeper before he said, “I’ve lost everyone. And so will you.”

Then Evelyn felt the churning of electricity, and a nearby television switched on, video feed grainy and greyscaled.

The doctor spoke as Tony stood beside Captain, watching the footage, “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within… That’s dead, forever.”

“I know that road,” Stark said, suddenly distressed.

Evelyn pried herself away from the sight of the chair and wedged herself between Captain and Stark as they gaped at the CCTV footage.

“What is this?” Stark now screamed at the doctor behind the pane of glass, who only wore a flat face with just a frown.

Stark’s voice scared her. She’d never heard him scared and it scared her. Sure, he was scared when he called about the Accords, but this next level shit.

 _Shit._ Evelyn thought as she watched a car ram itself horribly into a tree, sound even worse in low quality, the front of the car all metal carnage, wrapped around the obstacle. Stark invisibly cringed beside her.

It felt like she’d seen that before.

In the small television screen, a motorcycle circled the car crash and expertly parked beside it. Then car door opened, and a man in a suit spilled out. Tony writhed beside her.

The man driving the motorcycle stepped off his vehicle, arm glinting in the moonlight.

She has seen that before. She was _there._ She was on that motorcycle, and she had a metal arm.

 _Shit._ Evelyn stepped back, heart in her throat again, at least more than it already was. A “shit” came out of her mouth with a scratchy throat.

The man on the ground then spoke, barely audible, “Sergeant Barnes.”

She’d heard the voice before. The voice bounced in her head, hitting the memory she and Bucky shared.

Another “shit” came out of her mouth, but barely.

Stark pulled his eyes away for a second to glare at Bucky, who was looking down now, face more shameful that Evelyn had ever seen.

_Shit._

Then a pained “Howard” came through. A woman. Mother. Stark’s.

_Shit._

She wanted to look away. She wanted Stark to look away too, but they both had their eyes trained on the grainy television as Bucky in the feed pulled his metal arm back and punched, the sounds of bones breaking, head hitting metal was barely audible.

Why did it feel like she was the one throwing the punches? Because Bucky had.

Look away.

She’d seen this before. Because he had.

Look away.

It was one of the memories that snapped back at her months ago.

Look the fuck away.

Tony was breathing hard, fury coming through, shaking, fists curling.

_Shit._

Evelyn stepped even further back, the television screen barely in her vision. But she didn’t need to see it now. She got the idea. It was as if she was the one throwing the punch, grabbing the throat, lifting the gun at the camera. She knew how it ended only because Bucky did.

The same guilt that flooded the both of them that night was back again, only it was stronger because there were names to the faces now. Stories to the people. Children to the parents. Stark was standing right in front of them, ready to take names.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

She reacted too late, she was always too late. When Evelyn willed the television to dangerously short out in a small shower of sparks, and there was a silence, of anger, of shame, of intense fear. It didn’t take long for Evelyn to start moving around Stark, putting herself between him and Bucky.

“Tony,” she said softly as she stepped in front of Bucky, standing completely in front of Stark now.

He saw her, but he still pounced in her direction, Captain only restraining him with a firm hand on his suit. Evelyn recoiled on instinct, pushing Bucky back with the back of her hand on his shoulder.

Stark stopped, letting the moment sink in, rage and grief still heavy on his face.

_Shit._

“Did you know?” he finally said, turning towards Captain.

Evelyn pushed Bucky back, steps soft on the cold ground, trying to put small distance between the two. She could feel all of their heart rates, racing, pulsing, angry, scared, desperate, dangerous. She wanted out. She wanted Bucky out.

Captain held the silence, eyes deep with guilt, “I didn’t know it was him.”

“Don’t _bullshit_ me, Rogers. _Did you know?_ ” Tony’s voice was angrier, more desperate.

Steve held Tony’s eyes, the apology already wanting to make its way out of his mouth, but instead a short “Yes” came out.

_Shit._

At the word, Tony recoiled, unbelieving.

“Did _you_?” Stark turned towards her, turned his fury towards her.

It was only in this moment that she wanted to confess the past year, Fury and Hill’s assignments, Bucky’s treatments, why Wanda’s been disappearing for days at a time, everything he didn’t know.

But she shook her head, hoping that her denial would cut Bucky a break. In that second, she prayed to all the gods she knew of, she’s heard of, the one’s she made up in the moment, for Stark to cut Bucky a break. But his livid stare that pushed all the words she knew down her throat and burned her transparent indicated otherwise.

Tony remained silent, quivering, avoiding eye contact.

_Shit._

Then in a split second, Tony backhanded Captain with the speed of light, simultaneously raising his left gauntlet and out flew the chip.

 _Shit._ Her hands sparked up, ready to shock it out of the air, but before Evelyn could act, the little circular thing lodged itself into her neck. Then every nerve on her hand was on fire, the crackling of electricity wouldn’t stop, couldn’t. She was sent on her knees, weakened. Tears blurred her vision, and she couldn’t feel anything but the shock her hands were giving herself. Her voice was hoarse in a few seconds with how much screaming was coming out of her mouth.

A growl of surprise scratched Bucky’s throat. He scrambled towards the screaming Evelyn on the ground, but before he could do anything to help her, Stark was on him, throwing a punch. Bucky’s metal arm stuck out, matching the force of Tony’s suit. Suddenly, they were airborne, Stark’s propulsion systems yanking Bucky from the ground and to the other side of the room.

Evelyn could hear distant clanking of metal, cries of attack and pain. She was surprised she could hear anything at all besides her crying. Her hands stopped channeling the arc reactor’s power now, her willpower had somehow overcome her pain. The chip was vibrating on her neck now, sharp points digging into her skin, and the metal collar was closing around her neck. When the pain stopped, the silence began, deafening her, disorienting her.

“Jesus,” came out of her mouth. She reached for the chip on her neck, and it reacted, a burst of electricity shocking her, cancelling out the recovery she had made in the past three seconds.

“Tony, STOP!” Evelyn tried screaming, thinking that the screaming would distract from the silence, but it only made it worse. It took a few seconds to find where the fight was, using just the sound of anger and punches landing. Her feet were moving now, slowly, or quickly, she didn’t know, she couldn’t feel anything.

The moment she spotted Stark and Bucky going hand to hand against a column of intertwining metal beams and wires, a small missile ejected out of Stark’s right gauntlet.

She held her hand out, feeling for the targeting energy that the missile must have. Then she remembered the collar on her neck, her uselessness, and tried not to scream.

“Fuck,” came out of Evelyn’s mouth as she watched a huge column of metal explode and come crashing down in front of her.

She was running now, her feet a blur below her, still the column was falling, crashing into another one, that one falling too. _Shit._ She stumbled, falling on her ass as she tried switching directions.

The metal was too close now, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Get on her knees and crawl maybe, but—

A force of flesh knocked into her, covering her as she was thrown feet from the crash site. Captain America was above her, shield up, preventing metal from crushing the both of them. Evelyn just lay there for a moment, her breath heavy in her chest, choking on nothing, vision spotty.

“Go!” Steve said, strained as he lifted metal debris above her.

When she gained her senses, Evelyn rolled away into open air, breathing hard, a scream wanting to let out of her mouth.

The column of metal dropped behind her as Steve let go and recovered beside her. They both spotted Bucky with another chunk of metal separating them.

“Get him out of here!” Steve scolded, his words pushing Evelyn to jump over a beam and into Bucky’s arms.

She felt Bucky’s metal hand grab her wrist and whisk her from the site, barely gaining her balance as she ran after him. Evelyn heard a burst of exploding metal as Bucky pulled her into a threshold. His free hand slammed into a wall nearby, and above them, metal began groaning and the hot air mixed with the cold Siberian breeze. A crack of white emerged in the darkness above them, revealing metal jutting along the walls, leading into the open air above. They were in a missile silo.

“Here,” Bucky said, and he let go of her hand so that he held his own, getting on one knee.

Understanding his action, Evelyn put her foot on his intertwined hands and jumped, his arms boosting her up to the nearest silo work platform about 8 feet above. Her hands caught the edge, and pulled herself up. All of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s and Stark Industries’ training was suddenly coming back as adrenaline pumped in her veins. For once, she forgot the electrical silence and breathed in the strain of her muscles as she ascended each metal platform with a leap and a pull of her arms.

Bucky was running beside her, giving her the necessary lift and pulls when she needed it, jumping at neck breaking speed to make up for her delays.

Evelyn could hear Steve pleading with Stark below them in the distance, his desperation echoing, Stark’s anger coming through more.

_Shit._

Her foot faltered and she almost slipped and fell into the deep chasm they had climbed, but instead, Bucky grabbed the back of her suit.

“Remember the balcony jump?” he said, breathing hard.

Rubble exploded below them, and Evelyn saw Stark step into the light.

“How could I forget? I only shit my pants in the air,” Evelyn replied, searching for the nearest metal platform, only to find none in any possible vicinity she could leap from.

“It’s going to be like that, but you have help this time,” Bucky said, almost smiling.

Evelyn saw he was eyeing a metal platform from across the wall. What it lacked in height, it made up in distance from them.

“Fuck,” she muttered as Bucky got down on one knee again, hands intertwined. She put her foot on it, facing the metal platform across from them. “GO!” she said, jumping, feeling the force of Bucky’s hands as she half-flew, half-fell on to the edge of the platform across, fingers gripping the rusted metal. She hung for a moment, glancing at the fall below, her heart dropping at the moment she did so.

 _Shit._ Her arms suddenly cramped up as she mustered the strength to pull herself on the platform. She watched Bucky jump, hands landing on the edge of the grill beside her, both of them breathing hard. Before she could help him up, Stark flew in front of her and kicked him onto a lower platform.

“Stay _out_ of this, Evelyn,” Tony screamed at her as she regained her footing.

She wanted to beg him to stop, but her voice was stuck in her throat as she watched him aim a repulsor at Bucky below.

As if on cue, Steve bounced into the scene, shield at the ready, deflecting the blast from Stark’s repulsor. The blast hit Stark square in the chest and Evelyn found herself holding her breath.

“He’s not going to stop,” Steve said Bucky. Then he looked at Evelyn, “You both have to go.”

Evelyn nodded and leaped up to the next platform, Bucky hot at her heels.

She could feel the cold air on her face, the opening of the hatch a breath away. She was up the ladder, and on the edge of the opening. She was standing now, the Siberian air on her back. She crouched, held her hand out to Bucky, his was outstretched, a hair’s breath away.

Then the hatch exploded on her left, and Bucky was screaming at her.

 _Shit._ The million ton hatch was falling, and Evelyn was just staring at it. Then she saw a bright orange light fly at her, knocking her in the shoulder, pushing her back with the force of Thor’s hammer.

She was seeing all white, back against the cold hard ground, watching snow fall on her face. The circular hatch closed with a crash, and it was quiet.

So quiet.

_Shit._

Evelyn scrambled to her feet, running and slipping towards the closed hatch. She wanted to scream, but what would be the use. No one could hear her.

Panic was building in her chest. Her breathlessness, her aching body, and drowning in silence didn’t exactly help.

_Shit._

She spotted the jet a few yards away, the open entrance feet from that. Her feet were running now, Evelyn let whatever was compelling her to run take over. She was running into the doors with determination, pushing past a black figure walking into the light of Siberia.

What?

She turned back around, and Cat Suit was there, staring at her.

“Go,” said T’Challa. “Save them from themselves.”

Evelyn didn’t have time to decide whether that was a hallucination or the real thing. Her feet were running again, following the familiar path they had taken earlier, barely making corners, jumping into the elevator, pushing past the fallen metal debris at the atrium.

She stumbled to a stop.

Then she heard distant clanging of metal against metal, grunts of attacks, firing of repulsors. Evelyn was running again, following the sound, dodging bars of fallen metal and tripping when she couldn’t. Still, she followed the sounds, desperate to stop it.

When she arrived, the sight of Bucky on the ground kept her paralyzed and staring and enough to silence the fight in front of her.

 _Shit_.

She dropped to his side immediately, checking for a pulse, placing a hand on his chest to feel the fall and rise, running a hand over his head for a brain scan. She felt her mouth moving, and her throat working whispers, but the panic seemed to drown her own voice out. When everything seemed right, Evelyn could breathe again. His metal arm was torn out, wires jutting out. Evelyn’s heart was in her throat, a scream building beside it.

_Shit._

Steve hit the ground beside Bucky, on his knees, clutching at his stomach.

Evelyn searched for a gun, a weapon, anything, and settled on a piece of rebar on the ground as cold as Siberia itself.

“He’s my friend,” Steve mustered enough breath to speak.

“So was I,” Tony said.

Tony pulled a fist back, but before it could land, Evelyn was already running. She jumped at him, knocking them both down.

“Tony, STOP,” she screamed again. The rebar in her hand found a gap in his armor, where the shoulder met his chest. She dug it deep, feeling the mechanics break under her blade. “Get James out of here, Cap!” she called out behind her.

“Stay _out_ ,” Tony screamed back at her, his repulsor igniting under her.

She would’ve been knocked away had her grip on the rebar jammed in Tony’s armor been weak, but her hold kept her there, chest aching from the force.

Tony gasped for a second, scanning Evelyn for any injuries, before yanking the rebar and her hand away from his suit, throwing her back, rebar clattering away from her.

 

 

(Proceed to Chapter 18: Evelyn's Choice [Bravura].)


	22. 17B. Catastrophe (Morendo Ed Eroico)

The quinjet’s doors open to let the German air in, and the first words Evelyn heard was “Well, one of us has to change.”

Nat and T’Challa had already been waiting at the Leipzig Airport for the last hour, confirming intel. Once it was, they had evacuated the airport, and waited on Stark to land the quinjet into the hangar that the radio tower communicated before evacuating.

Evelyn rolled her eyes, “The standard tac suit is not copping your style, Nat. It’s standard.” She’d borrowed a tactical suit from one of the Facility trainees. Stark had equipped her with another arc reactor with the same spindles that extended to her fingers, and the enhancing goggles tinted blue from the Sokovian endeavor.

Nat grinned, pointing behind Evelyn with a nod, “Why can’t you be more like this kid?”

Evelyn turned and watch Peter stroll out of the jet with his red and blue skin tight suit. As he put his mask on, his eyepieces adjusted in the light, as if like camera apertures. The apertures widened as they seemed to set their eyes on Nat and T’Challa.

“That’s Peter’s own style, Tony just enhanced it. It’s a little tacky for me,” Evelyn admitted.

Tony clunked out of the jet in his Iron Man suit, “You’re only upset because you forgot to take your blue wig with you.”

Vision silently floated of the jet, not speaking a word. The gears in his head were turning as he looked around the hangar and past the hangar at the rest of the airport.

“I lost it after Sokovia, and I didn’t really think I’d need it again,” Evelyn said, still trying to distract herself from the reality of the situation. Only Nat’s face that turned suddenly serious made it more real.

“At least you got those cool ski-googles on,” Peter tried to save Evelyn’s outfit.

Her heart warmed at his childhood innocence for a brief moment, but she play-frowned at him, “They’re not ski goggles.”

“They’re enhancement eyewear,” Stark corrected with pride. They were his creation. “Let’s just hope this won’t take long for you to turn up on TV.”

At that moment, there was a small roaring sound as James Rhodes ducked through the back doors of the hangar and landed in front of them. His face piece lifted off to reveal a look of surprise on his face.

Before he could speak, Evelyn put her hands up jokingly, “I had to sign the Accords to be here, I’m in full compliance with the powers that be.”

He nodded, “Sorry about the—”

“Don’t worry about it. Just don’t do it again,” Evelyn said, smiling, but she remembered the silence that the Faraday collar had trapped her in. There was a small part of her that feared that happening again.

“What’s the plan, Tony?” Rhodes asked.

The Iron Man suit shrugged, “Try to talk Cap out of it. Hopefully, he lets up.”

“And if he won’t?” Evelyn asked.

“Then we fight,” T’Challa chimed in for the first time. “Barnes is a murderer. I will not let him get away with this.”

It still unnerved Evelyn to hear that. Murder was in T’Challa’s mind. Being on the same side as him felt wrong.

“We’re not killing anyone,” Evelyn said.

“Who said we were?” Rhodes challenged the statement.

“None of that matters,” Nat burst in. “What matters now is keeping this from getting any worse.”

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation. They were about to hurt their friends.

“Anyway, Cap’s here to hitch a ride. We just have to stop them from taking off,” Nat began explaining.

“They won’t bother with commercial airlines, it’s too slow and too monitored,” Rhodes contributed.

“Um… guys,” Parker broke in.

They all turned to him, and saw the kid staring past the hangar.

“I see him. He’s making his way for the helicopter,” he said.

Everyone’s minds seem to tick except Evelyn’s. She was panicking. This was it.

“O…kay. Rhodey, you and I intercept,” Tony began. “Nat, T’Challa, close him off. Evie, go around the south building, round up strays, hitch a ride from Peter. Peter, stay off to the side, wait for my signal. And Vision…”

“Yes?” the android stepped from the shadows of the hangar to the light.

“Stay out of the fight, for now. If it gets any worse, it’ll be up to you,” Tony said gravely.

The android nodded, matching the serious air around them.

“Let’s roll,” Tony said, his and Rhodey’s face piece simultaneously closing as they jumped off the ground to intercept Steve.

Evelyn grabbed Peter by the waist and held him tightly around the neck, “Let’s go, fanboy.”

She felt his heart pound in his chest and his bio electric activity surge at the sudden contact, “I’m not kissing you, by the way.”

His heart raced even more as he stuttered, “H-Hold tight, ma’am.”

Evelyn snorted, “Don’t drop me or I’ll kill you before I hit the ground.”

The boy swung his arms out and Evelyn felt a tug. Then they were airborne and swinging with the sound of ropes cutting and Peter’s exhilarated breath. And when they landed, Evelyn’s heart was racing with the rush of adrenaline from the illusion of flight.

“Must be fun, doing that all the time,” Evelyn grinned as she let his neck free of her arms.

Peter’s mask moved, perhaps in a smile, but she wasn’t sure, “It’s as close as I get to flying.”

She shrugged, “Thanks for not dropping me, kid.”

Before he could say anything, she put a hand to her earpiece, “Parker’s in position, I’m watching my surroundings vigilantly.”

“Good luck, kid,” she said before walking away, holding her hand out to detect bio electric activities.

She slowly rounded the building as she listened to Stark’s dialogue. She could hear Steve in the background from everyone else’s comms.

“Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?” the control in Tony’s voice was audible, but there was impatience that was ready to burst out.

Steve’s voice came on, faint, “You’re after the wrong guy.”

Evelyn swallowed hard. Of course they were after the wrong guy, Bucky didn’t bomb Vienna. It was just that no one would believe her.

Tony’s voice broke in anger, but he still tried to rein it in, “Your judgement is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.”

Steve still pleaded, “And there are 5 more super soldiers just like him…”

 _What?_ Evelyn stopped, trying to listen hard.

“I can’t let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can’t,” Steve said.

“What the hell is he talking about?” Evelyn said, not attempting to stay quiet rounding the building anymore.

But no one questioned Steve’s new revelation. Evelyn heard Nat plead to Rogers, but it wasn’t about new information.

“Does anyone care about what Cap just said?” Evelyn tried to ask again.

Before anyone could answer, Tony yelled something out and Parker whisked himself away to be by Tony’s side.

But Evelyn was in a stupor, her senses drifted away. What was Captain talking about? Five super soldiers? What doctor? She had to find an explanation before Tony or anyone else did.

So, Evelyn was running now. She held her hand out, and pulled the energy building she was circling. In her enhancing goggles, the streams of blue disappeared, and she felt the energy pool themselves into the arc reactor. She held both her hands out, scanning for bio electrical activity in the building. _Someone_ had to be there.

But she was shaken back into the comms dialogue, “You’re gonna turn Barnes over, and you’re gonna come with us. _Now._ Because it’s _us,_ or a squad of JSOC guys with no compunction about being impolite. “

Evelyn could hear the desperation in Tony’s voice, but from Steve’s silence was determination, stubbornness, even.

Despite the deep feeling in her that everything, her family, her home, was over, Evelyn kept searching for electric activity from outside the building. Only an almost silent whirring caught her attention. To her right was a small drone painted red and silver, facing the opposite direction.

When the drone swiveled and began flying in her direction, she dodged its line of sight by ducking behind a column. And it seemed that that was when all hell broke loose.

“There’s two on the parking deck, one of them’s Maximoff.”

“Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes.”

That’s her building.

“Barnes is mine!”

No, he wasn’t.

“Mr. Stark, what should I do?”

But the rest of that four-way conversation was in a distant world when Evelyn started to make her way up the emergency stairwell. Behind her, she felt a bundle of wires and mechanics fly. When she turned, the red drone was zooming past. It wasn’t Stark’s, nor was it Rhodey’s. It didn’t have a drop of black on it, so it couldn’t have been T’Challa’s.

It was the other team’s.

She followed it as it passed above her, her legs burning as she trudged up the stairs. In the comms, there was a series of fights happening, glass shattering, punches landing, groans of pain. But she ignored those and was determined to follow the drone back to its owner.

When the drone entered a doorway and exited the stairwell, she was met with the sight of Parker, Sam, and Bucky throwing punches.

Evelyn sprinted, and she yelled, “Parker, take the bird, I got this guy!”

She just needed a few seconds with Bucky.

Parker obeyed and turned back to Sam on the ground (“You did not just call me a bird!”) when Evelyn tackled Bucky to the ground. The kid was whisked away when Sam took him by the arms with his wings out and the drone back on Sam’s pack.

“ _Take out my earpiece,_ ” she whispered to Barnes in Romanian.

“What?”

She pulled her fist back and punched him in the face, “ _Take out my earpiece, now!”_

After a quick second of recovering from her punch, Bucky yanked out the chip in her ear.

“You can fake a fight, right?” Evelyn asked with a grin at Bucky’s confused face.

He threw her off of him with a kick to her stomach, and Evelyn pulled energy from the arc reactor and pooled it in her hand.

Outside, she heard explosions that she couldn’t be bothered to observe.

“ _What was Steve talking about with the super soldiers?_ ” she said as he took a swing at her with his left arm, which she ducked under and gave a full shock before returning it to normal function.

“ _The psychiatrist that interrogated me,_ ” he began as he yanked her arm back behind her. She screamed at the stretching pain, then shocked his hand off of her.

After his hiss as he retracted his hand, he resumed, “ _He extracted information from me._ ”

“I thought we were faking it?” Evelyn said, going back to English as she kicked his legs under, and as he pulled her down with him.

“You punched me for real,” Bucky almost mustered a smile as he flipped her under her and held a hand to her throat. He wasn’t squeezing.

“You weren’t paying attention,” she retorted as she kicked him off of her, and they went for another bout.

They went on for another minute, attacking and defending fluidly, as if a lethal dance. Slowly, in breathless pieces, in between his punches and dodging Evelyn’s electric blasts, Bucky explained how the psychiatrist was looking for the other winter soldiers frozen in Siberia. Some of his memories that translated through her electric therapy from Bucharest came back. The briefcase with the blue liquid, the cage where their training went wrong, watching as they were frozen before he too was put back in the ice.

Evelyn froze in thought, and Bucky had the upper hand again. Her stomach was under her, and he held her hands behind her.

“ _And the others. Their words in the book too?_ ” she muttered as she struggled out of his grip.

Before he could answer, his weight on her back was lifted as Parker swung past and kicked him off.

 _Damn it_ , “Thanks, kid.”

He shrugged, “No prob—Oh, no.”

Evelyn ducked just in time to miss a flying piece of airport carnage coming for Peter.

She caught sight of Bucky and she only gave him a face. _A big block of metal at the kid? Really?_ But Peter was more than capable, catching the block with his webs, and its path swung around and flew for Bucky.

“Hey, buddy, I think you lost this!” he called out before it hit a destroyed the column that Bucky was hiding behind. She saw him duck under the carnage and roll away, hiding behind another. Parker was gone before he could attack again, going after airborne Sam.

She ran for him, wanting more information. He swung his metal arm again, and Evelyn slid under, getting a few punches on his side before rolling away to dodge his attack.

He caught her throat under his hand again, “Knock out.”

“You know I’m not hitting you as hard as I should, right?” she grinned before following his instructions and shut her eyes and went slack under his choke hold. She felt his hand come off, and in a short moment, more glass shattered and everyone’s voices disappeared into a lower level of the airport.

Peter’s voice was clear though, “Guys, look. I’d love to keep this up, but I’ve only got one job here today and I gotta impress Mr. Stark. So, I’m really sorry…”

His voice was cut off, and more things broke before the building was silent. Evelyn counted bio-electric activities and only totaled three, including hers.

“Evelyn, it’s clear,” she heard Bucky call from below.

She bolted even before her eyes could fully open. Past a nearby broken glass railing, Sam and Bucky were on the ground with Parker’s webs restraining them.

“Y’all tired already?” she asked as she leaped off, her heart in her throat, before absorbing the shock with a roll.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sam asked. There was a tone of anger behind his voice.

“Looking for an explanation,” she said.

“It’s okay, she’s okay,” Bucky muttered as he waited for her to cut his restraints. She pulled out the knife from the sheath on Bucky's left calf and freed his metal arm from the ground.

“And how do you know that?” Sam demanded.

Evelyn rolled her eyes, “It sounds like you’re comfortable with webs all over you. Didn’t take you as kinky, Wilson.”

She turned to Bucky as she handed him his knife handle first, “ _The others have words too?_ ”

Bucky nodded as he cut Sam out of the webs, “ _That’s the only way to control them._ ”

“What is this, Russian?” Sam demanded.

Bucky muttered in a foreign language that neither she nor Sam understood.

“That was Russian,” Evelyn pointed out. “ _What’s your plan?_ ” she asked Bucky in Romanian.

“That’s Romanian,” Bucky said. “ _We’re trying to get to Siberia. Stop the doctor from waking them up._ ”

“We gotta go,” Wilson said, he began walking faster towards the exit. They were already on ground level.

“ _How are you getting out?_ ” she asked Bucky as she followed them, now jogging.

“The quinjet,” he said. “If you guys let us.”

“ _They won’t let you. There isn’t a choice,_ ” she said. She was part of Tony’s team now, operating under the control of the Accords. She wanted to explain how she had to sign to keep herself in control, and to be here. At that moment, she felt she signed her rights away.

“Give me my earpiece back,” she demanded from Bucky. He stopped running and gingerly picked out the little chip from his pocket. How he managed to slip it in without dropping it or crushing it, she’ll never know.

Then she unzipped her suit down halfway down her chest.

"Whoa, what the hell—" Sam began, but stopped when she untaped the thumb drive from right under the wire of her bra.

"Trade," she said, dropping the drive on Bucky's open hand, picking up the earpiece. "Don't lose it. Everything from the CCS is in there. Keep it safe," she said to Bucky's reddened face as she zipped her suit back up again.

He only swallowed and nodded, dropping the drive into a zip pocket on his vest. Then he gave Sam a look, who understood and began to walk away.

"About that call," Bucky began, his face not recovering from its fluster.

Then it was time for her face to heat up. Evelyn only smiled, waved it off, "We can just—"

"I love you too," Bucky interrupted her attempt at a recovery. Before she could stutter something, he continued, "I didn't want to call back because then I would've said it back. And I didn't want to do that because I'd end up hurting you."

That killed her. "You could never—"

"Let me finish," he shook his head, stepping closer to her. "But I realized I had already hurt you. And you're still here. And all that time of me not trying not to love you out of fear of hurting you was me already loving you. All I can do now is return it a hundredfold."

That was... perfect. In the midst of all this, of everything that happened and was about to happen, they had found a quiet moment for this exchange.

Bucky stuttered, "And you don't have to—"

Evelyn ignored every little panic in her head to grab his face and kiss him. She let his lips on hers quell all the little fears of the unpredictable and the unknown. And she tried to burn this into her memory because it could be the last time.

When she pulled away, she tried not to show the fear of losing him, "I love you. And I've never wanted to say it because..."

He nodded at her pause, understanding. Evelyn tried not to love because it hurt more when they ended up dead. It only takes one time.

"But you can't die," she recalled her oath in Bucharest right before everything started to come down on them. "You're going to live forever. And I'll love you in that time."

Bucky tried to keep his smile restrained. He went in for another kiss when Sam interrupted, "Look, it's great that somehow you two find the time for these confessions that the whole group chat can hear, but..."

Evelyn could have laughed, but he was right. The more time they stood here, the more time the doctor had in Siberia to wake the super soldiers. She nodded and pulled herself away from Bucky, the electricity dissipating between them. Bucky's face fell at that, but he steeled himself as they looked at each other for strength.

“I’m gonna have to knock you guys out,” she said. She almost laughed at the confused looks on Sam and Bucky’s faces.

“If I go out there, they’ll have me knock you out. Nothing can stop me,” she said, proudly. She wasn’t bulletproof, but she can take someone out before bullets started flying.

“I don’t understand,” Bucky said.

Sam rolled his eyes, “She’s giving us a chance to run, albeit late.”

Evelyn nodded. She’d made up her mind the moment Steve gave her a reason to turn her back on the Accords.

She pushed Bucky away, gently, “Don’t make me punch you again.”

Sam had to grab his arm and drag him out of the building before Bucky could let the words sink in.

"Don't get the drive shot. And don't get shot. Bring yourself back alive," Evelyn called out to them before she put her earpiece back on. Once she did, she already heard Stark scolding at her.

“—not answering? Evelyn, you better be dead if—”

“Sorry,” she said, faintly, as if waking. As far as they knew, she had been choked into unconsciousness. “I was taking an involuntary nap. And I can’t fly.”

“The quinjet’s their only way out,” Nat said.

“They’re lining up,” Stark observed from the outside.

“Don’t line up without me,” Evelyn said as she started to run out the terminal. Her words contradicted her feelings. She very much wanted to stay out of everything. The only thing keeping her from moving now was the control that the Accords had over her.

“Too late,” Nat muttered.

“They’re not stopping,” Parker said.

Evelyn could only imagine what was happening outside. Two factions running against each other, all equally able to kick each other’s asses.

“Neither are we,” Stark responded.

Evelyn tried to reason with her team, “I think they’re telling the truth about the doctor and the super soldiers. Maybe we should rethink this.”

But there was radio silence until everything erupted.

Then the comms went silent apart from sounds of war. Evelyn neared the fight, and heard explosions and metal carnage groaning. She saw vehicles in the air, and Wanda’s red light throwing them up. Parker was on top of each vehicle, dodging Wanda’s attacks. That made her panic a little bit, remembering her promise to May Parker.

“Not to be condescending, Peter, but go pick on someone else,” Evelyn said.

As Evelyn emerged into the light, she pooled energy into her palm and threw it at Wanda.

Relief spread through her as Wanda caught the blast of energy with her red aura and redirected at a plane nearby.

“Evelyn?” Wanda said, confusion and betrayal in her face.

 _I’m only faking it, Wanda. I signed the Accords but I’m on your side,_ Evelyn repeated in her head, hoping Wanda was reading her mind.

Evelyn didn’t have time to get a response when a vehicle came flying at her. Vision landed in front of her and split the car in half before any contact could be made. Evelyn dodged around him and resumed attacking Wanda with a hopefully telepathic apology with each throw of energy. Wanda caught and redirected each time, pure concentration in her face.

Evelyn got close enough to her to kick her in the gut, throwing her back. Then Evelyn was on top of Wanda, and her hands were swimming with electricity. A heel was at Wanda’s hand, Evelyn’s hand on the other, tying her down. The shock of electricity kept her down, and Wanda writhed in pain.

“I’m so sorry,” Evelyn muttered. At that moment, she felt a probing in her head and knew Wanda was reading her. When Wanda’s face fell flat with realization and understanding, Evelyn turned off the electricity and felt Wanda’s energy push her back.

“I’m sorry too,” Wanda said, hiding a grin before throwing her hands back. Simultaneously, Evelyn hit a solid wall and dropped to the ground.

When she looked up, Wanda was gone and Vision’s boots were at her sight. “Are you alright, Evelyn?”

She put a hand up for Vision to grab, helping her up, “Yeah. They’ll be headed for the jet, I’ll cut them off. Keep everyone off my back.”

Before the android could form a reply, she took off, trying to find the hangar where the quinjet was parked. At the corner of her eye, she saw Barton dodge a blast from a passing Rhodes. He quickly recovered while stringing an arrow.

“Hey, Katniss, catch,” Evelyn called out before shooting off a blast from the arc reactor, purposely missing.

Barton leaped over the stream of electricity, and shot an arrow in her direction. She ducked before another came after her, and she shocked that out of the air with a quick hand movement.

“What are you doing, Evelyn?” Barton said, standing now, holding still, arrows quivered.

Evelyn stood too, and shrugged. She opened her mouth to speak, but something erupted to her right. Something… grew. It was a man in a suit, painted red, taller and larger than anything she’d ever seen. In his hand was Rhodes, trying to fly out of his grip.

“What the hell,” Evelyn muttered, throat tight. Was she hallucinating?

In the comms, Rhodes spoke in panic, “Okay, tiny dude is big, now. He’s big now.”

Evelyn heard the knocking of an arrow and the thin whistle of it flying through the air, and she only turned in time to shock it out of the air. The arrow exploded a foot from her face, and she could hear her ears ringing. She was on the ground, vision blurry.

She heard the thumping and shaking of the ground, her hallucination of the giant man was enhanced. Airplane wings were ripped off and normal sized people were tossed like leaves in the wind.

Stark came through the comms, “Okay, anybody on our side hiding any shocking and fantastic abilities that they’d like to disclose? I’m open to ideas.”

“I’m glad you’re seeing this too,” Evelyn said as she shook her head into reality.

But she peeled herself off the ground and tackled Barton, who only threw her on the ground with a quick twist of his bow.

“I’m sorry about this,” Evelyn said.

Barton smiled, “About what? I’m the one that has you pinned down.”

In that second, she released a pulse of energy with enough voltage to knock someone unconscious. The results of her actions was visible when Barton lay on the ground, unmoving. There was always a panic in the stretch of time between the hit of electricity and when a body dropped. She crouched, placing fingers at his neck, then breathing a sigh of relief as she felt a pulse. At the corner of her eye, she saw Steve and Bucky running for the hangar, a field of concrete clear of obstacles before them.

Evelyn chased after them, firing off a few shots. Once she got into the jet with them, she was a fugitive. These last few moments had to look like she was on the side of the law.

“Can you aim better?” Rhodes said.

Evelyn looked up and saw him flying past, Sam at his tail.

“I haven’t had time to practice,” Evelyn said, putting all her energy into running after Steve and Bucky.

The two men were so close to crossing the threshold, Evelyn only a few minutes behind them. She fired off more shots, but Cap blocked them off with his shield. Before they could get close to the hangar, a beam of yellow cut across the nearby radio tower, and concrete began crashing down. Evelyn ran faster. She didn’t know if Bucky and Cap were going to make through there, but she’d rather them get caught by the authorities than under the falling rubble. She fired off two more shots that she didn’t mean to miss.

“Cap, _stop_!” she screamed after them. Steve almost stopped, but Bucky pulled him along, ignoring her.

The determination in Bucky’s movements broke her. Death wasn’t part of the plan.

Before Evelyn could stop them, red auras began to flow about the teetering building. They all turned to see Wanda on her knees, struggling to keep the tower from dropping with her powers.

So they ran like hell, Steve and Bucky ahead, Evelyn just a few paces behind. She almost laughed. They were almost out of there, free from the tether that the Accords had put her in.

But the stream of red had been erupted, and the tower came crushing down. A gasp let out of Evelyn’s mouth as she rolled under it and held her hands up. She put everything into her hands, trying to disintegrate the tower before it hit the ground. At that moment, she wished she had what Wanda had. She saw Bucky and Cap get through the falling rubble, and screams. Bucky’s. Her name. Then quiet. Did she finally die? But she couldn’t see, her eyes were shut, hands still in front of her, arc reactor going. Why was she still breathing?

She opened her eyes. She found she could open her eyes. She wasn’t dead. Through the enhancing goggles was a flower of blue coating the surface of the falling tower. She was breathing dust and asphalt, but she was breathing. She saw feet to her left and the quinjet lifting off and disappearing from her sight as the rubble of the fallen tower blocked her vision. On her right were blocks of debris, and just a small gap of light. She looked in front of her again. The thin blue layer was repelling the tower from crushing her.

What the hell was happening? Was it another Tesseract portal? It couldn’t be, there wasn’t Tessearact energy near this place.

“Evelyn? _Evelyn,_ ” Nat’s voice came through the earpiece. Evelyn saw Nat’s red hair, then her face through the gap on her left.

“I’m okay,” she could barely speak. Her arms were tiring, and she felt the arc reactor depleting. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m not dead yet.”

Evelyn harvested energy from the nearby power plant that powered the airport. She kept streaming it at the block of cement in front of her. But her arms strained, as she seemed to lift the tower off of her. It was heavy, and she’d soon tire, and then die.

 _Jesus, lighten up, will you?_ She thought to her dying self. There were tears in her eyes and she felt her last words.

“I’m going to die, Nat,” she said, her voice breaking. Her arms wobbled. She wished she’d lifted more weights.

“No, you’re not, just slip out of there,” Nat tried to stretch her arm out to Evelyn, when her hand passed into the shadow of the falling tower, blue sparks flew. She immediately retracted her arm.

“Shit,” Evelyn could barely whisper as she witnessed Nat hiss in surprise.

Evelyn felt the tears run down her temples and through her hair. At that moment, her arms buckled, and elbows hit the ground. The tower fell a foot before the blue from her hands caught it again. She gasped at that second as metal groaned, she breathed in more dust.

“Tell Bucky I’m sorry. This is all my fault,” she called out to Nat.

There was screaming in her comms, but it was unintelligible. Everything was in a different world now. It was just her and the weight of the world on her shaking arms.

“Evelyn, stay with me,” Nat said.

She kept talking, but her voice was far away. Everything was far away. Eventually, the weight disappeared, and the feeling of her arms disappeared, and her vision disappeared. She felt her bio electricity waning, going into the layer of repellent blue instead of her own life line. And then it was the end.

But it wasn’t. Through the slit of her tiring eyes, the blue slowly turned into red. Was it blood? The weight of the tower had lessened, but not because Evelyn was dead, but because the red began to lift. The debris on her right was shifted aside, and the light flooded in. Evelyn turned to see Wanda a few feet away, face twisted in concentration.

Evelyn let go of the tower, and her arms forgave her for it. The tower fell another inch as Wanda took the full load of its weight. Evelyn pulled herself out of the thinning gap, as much as her arms could.

When Evelyn was clear, the tower dropped with a deafening crash, and Evelyn was restored with the gift of life.

She felt arms around her, and a distinctly pleasant smell. It was Wanda. And despite the immense fatigue in her arms, Evelyn held her back.

And that was when police sirens surrounded them, and a voice through a megaphone demanded for hands to be up. The flashing blue lights of JSOC cars surrounded them.

“You can put your hands up, Wanda,” Evelyn said. She felt Wanda’s arms go slack around her, and Evelyn used her hands to push herself off the ground.

She felt arms pull her up, but they were gentle. They weren’t police hands. Nat was beside her, holding her up, talking to someone in German.

They put Wanda on the ground, her hands behind her back, and they weren’t gentle about it.

No one pointed their guns at Evelyn, no one cuffed her. It was her turn to stand and watch someone else go through it.

* * *

 

Evelyn tried not to shift in uncomfortableness, in the cramped space, lest she make a sound and alert T’Challa of her presence.

She hid in a storage compartment under the floor, under two bags full of what Evelyn couldn’t guess. It’s been two hours since she snuck on board; she’d been watching her watch with the broken glass face. She didn’t recall when it broke, but it still worked.

She felt the metal against her suit get colder. That was the second sign that T’Challa was going to Siberia.

The first was when they were escorted back to the Joint Counter Terrorism Center empty handed, and Nat discreetly let Evelyn know that he had disappeared. Evelyn didn’t even notice.

And Nat muttered to her before Secretary Ross debriefed them: “The kid told me you went hand to hand against Barnes."

"So I pulled my punches," Evelyn tried to counter.

"I knew what side you picked the moment you broke off for Barnes. He walked out and you didn't. You didn't punch at all.”

Evelyn was speechless. But she tried to play a façade as Secretary Ross stared them down as he exited the room after debriefing.

“T’Challa has a jet downstairs, I can distract security long enough for you to get in,” Nat muttered as she stood up, Evelyn standing with her.

“How sure are you he won’t be flying back home? Are you trying to get me extradited?” Evelyn asked quietly as she followed Nat navigating the building.

Nat chuckled, “The King wants blood, he won’t stop.”

Then she stopped, and turned to face Evelyn. Nat grabbed her elbow and held tight, like a mother scolding a child, “My ass is already on the line. I let Steve go. I have to leave. This is on you now.”

 _Leave?_ Evelyn was confused. But Nat didn’t give time for it to sink in, and resumed her trek downstairs. _Nat was there when Cap and Bucky went through the gap, and she didn’t stop them. She was compromised._

“Before we do this,” Evelyn stopped Nat, grabbing her arm. “What happened back at the airport?”

She still thought about the tower inches from her face. Each time she closed her eyes, the blue from her hands that pushed back the weight was there.

Nat was just as confused as her, “I was hoping you’d tell me.”

Evelyn only shrugged, “I panicked. I thought I could destroy the tower before it fell on them. Well… I didn’t think I could, I just thought it was a good try.”

Nat was deep in thought, and after a quick silence, she blurted out, “Electric fields?”

At first, Evelyn was confused. But it made sense. Electrons repelled electrons. If there were two layers of electrons in front of her, perhaps they’d repel each other, and the weight of the tower would be lifted.

But Nat knocked her back into the present, “I’d find you an electrical engineer to explore this question, but we’re short on time.”

“Why are you doing this?” Evelyn demanded as Nat took Evelyn led her through the compound by the arm.

“I’m making it up to you,” Nat said, her voice was different now.

“For what?” Evelyn baited, but she felt like she knew. It was what she resented about Nat this whole time.

“For not being there. For avoiding you. After Joanna,” Nat swallowed and stopped, looking around all paranoid.

“I…” Evelyn stuttered.

“We’re all that’s left of her, of the old S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Nat said softly, her eyes getting glassy. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Evelyn swallowed, and nodded. Then their arms were wrapped around each other.

But Nat pulled away, “You have to go.” Then she pushed Evelyn in a general direction and distracted the King’s guards. Evelyn slipped into the King’s jet and into the tight cargo hold.

At the 2-hour count, she wanted to call Tony and apologize. She’d left. This was the time he needed someone the most. His old team was in prison, and Rhodes was in the hospital. She should have called the moment Nat told her the news and when Tony and Rhodes didn’t show up for debriefing. Then she thought about calling May Parker. What would she even say? _Sorry that I couldn’t personally bring Peter home, and sorry I almost killed the kid by letting Tony Stark bring him into the fight._

But she was left with her regrets unsolved.

The jet gave a shake, and Evelyn tried to accept that she’d die in the cramped cargo hold in a jet crash in the cold. But it eventually stilled, and she heard T’Challa step out of the jet. She kept in mind the electric commands of the jet that opened the bay door. For a moment, the cold air that the open door let in cut through. For a moment, Evelyn breathed fresh air instead of the bags that smelled slightly of sweat. Until the doors closed and the jet was quiet.

Still, Evelyn didn’t make a move. He could still be outside. He could be dead outside. If they were in Siberia, they could all be dead outside at the behest of five brain washed super soldiers. Six, if the doctor ever got to Bucky.

Evelyn swallowed. If that was the situation, she was the last line defense. Considering she won’t be shot first.

After wallowing in the moment’s pessimism, Evelyn kicked the compartment open and sat up. Her legs screamed at the sudden space, even though they were screaming to move since she got into the compartment. She quickly stretched her body, now glad for the change.

Then she searched the jet for firearms. She’d need to be packing heat if she was to hold her own against six super soldiers.

_Five. Bucky’s not one of them._

But Evelyn found nothing. The only heat she’d be packing was the half-depleted arc reactor on her chest.

Then she pulled out her phone, and dialed. It was muscle memory, the dialing. She didn’t even recognize who she dialed until a voice spoke on the other side.

“Thank you for calling Stark Travel Agency. How may I help you?” Maria Hill’s voice was uncharacteristically cheerful.

“Hey, Maria,” she said, her voice was breaking.

“Evelyn?”

“I’m compromised, Maria,” she admitted. “Stark knows. Rogers, too. I told them. Nat’s real close to getting it.”

What was she doing? Confessing her sins before she dies?

“What is it that you need, Evelyn?” Maria said. She wasn’t angry. Evelyn expected her to be angry. She hadn’t used the response protocol to the Travel Agency greeting. And she just compromised herself. But Maria was attentive, feeling.

“I want to apologize. I couldn’t finish the assignment,” Evelyn said. She felt the tears coming on.

“What are you talking about?” Maria asked, but Evelyn knew she understood what was going to happen.

“Nothing, Maria,” Evelyn chuckled. “I just wanted to say goodbye. And please apologize to the United Nations for me.”

“Yeah, I heard you signed,” Maria laughed, but her voice was sad.

“Sorry, it was the best course of action at the time,” Evelyn said, and it felt like she was apologizing for a hundredth time. Only, this was the first time she’d said it out loud. “It was good working for you, Hill.”

“Tell the Team, Stark, Wanda, everyone, that I’m sorry,” Evelyn said after a long silence. She knew there was no Team anymore, but it didn’t hurt to pretend everything was normal and she was in this bubble. “

“What are you planning to do, Evelyn?”

 _Die._ But she didn’t say that. She laughed, “Something stupid.”

Then she hung up, and took the sim card out and broke it. She shorted the electronics of the phone. It was dramatic of her, but she didn’t see the point in prolonging it. That was her goodbye.

Evelyn put the phone back in her pocket, and opened the doors with a twitch of her finger. Immediately, the howling of the cold Siberian wind blew in her ears. She wasn’t even sure she was in Siberia, but she was sure it didn’t snow in Wakanda.

She spotted huge metal doors that jutted out of the snowy mountain landscape, slightly ajar. She scanned the landscape, both with sight and electrical sense. When nothing came up, she stepped out of the jet, the snow crunching under her shoes. She let the white expanse of Siberia sink in, with the light shower of snow and the occasional splotch of gray mountains against the blank canvas.

She spotted the quinjet closer to the doors, and a snow mobile beside it.

T’Challa had brought her to the right place.

Evelyn quickly jogged through the snow to find refuge from the cold in the bunker that the doors led through. Before she could pass the threshold, a shot rang out, cracking the silence of Siberia. She looked to her right, and there was T’Challa holding a man in a chokehold. The man tried to struggle, but the King remained unmoving.

Evelyn ran to his side, grabbed the gun on the snow, and threw it past the precipice. ( _Fool, you could've used that._ ) She saw the man’s face. It was the doctor in Berlin, but Evelyn wasn’t sure that he really was a doctor. He had a kind face but his eyes held no mercy.

But where were the soldiers?

“The living are not done with you yet,” the King said. Then he turned to Evelyn, “Go. Save them from themselves.”

That shook her. She didn’t know what he meant, but the urgency in his voice told her to go, _now._

She sprinted into the bunker, exchanging the cold of the outside for the dankness of the inside. Evelyn was alert, scanning for bio electric activity and channeling the arc reactor at the same time. When the hallway she was running through split right to left, she just followed the noise that led her right. There was an elevator, and she quickly operated it until it landed with a shaking.

She pried the doors open, and sprinted, following the noise, the clangs of metal and voices of struggle. She felt the massive power surge going into one room, and followed that too. When she passed a threshold, the carnage stopped her in her tracks.

There was metal debris everywhere, columns toppled. The columns that were intact had cryochambers at its end, liquid nitrogen steam hissing out. Upon closer inspection, a body sat in the murky yellow tube, forever asleep.

 

The only thing that broke Evelyn out of her shock and confusion was the distant clanging of metal against metal, grunts of attacks, firing of repulsors. Evelyn was running again, following the sound, dodging bars of fallen metal and tripping when she couldn’t. Still, she followed the sounds, desperate to stop it.

When she arrived, the sight of Bucky on the ground kept her paralyzed and staring and enough to silence the fight in front of her.

 _Shit_.

She dropped to his side immediately, checking for a pulse, placing a hand on his chest to feel the fall and rise, running a hand over his head for a brain scan. She felt her mouth moving, and her throat working whispers, but the panic seemed to drown her own voice out. When everything seemed right, Evelyn could breathe again. His metal arm was torn out, wires jutting out. Evelyn’s heart was in her throat, a scream building beside it.

_Shit. What the fuck was happening?_

"He knows, Eve," Bucky was conscious and had the energy to speak so softly.

"Who knows what, Bucky?" Evelyn said as she ran a hand over his head for a brain scan.

"Stark. And that night in the woods...briefcase...motorcycle," his speech was in and out, and he was blinking hard, trying to focus.

She started talking again without hearing herself, trying to convince him that everything was alright. Then, Steve hit the ground beside Bucky, on his knees, clutching at his stomach.

“He’s my friend,” Steve mustered enough breath to speak.

“So was I,” Tony said.

Tony pulled a fist back, but before it could land, Evelyn was already running. She jumped at him, knocking them both down.

“Tony, STOP,” she screamed again.

Tony was immobile for a second, trying to comprehend Evelyn’s sudden presence.

“What the hell are you doing?” Evelyn asked. His face was full of unbridled rage. His fight pattern was set up for murder. It wasn’t just taking Cap and Bucky and turning them in. It was further than that.

“He killed them,” Stark managed to say.

_Shit._

“Who, Tony?” she asked, but she knew, Bucky told her just now. The only thing that Tony would kill for. She’d seen the memory as if she was the one that committed the act. The car crash, the landing punches, the remorseless grip on a neck until the struggle stopped.

He wanted to answer, but his face twisted further into rage. It was as if he knew Evelyn knew just by looking at her face. He probably could. Evelyn was transparent, Nat always said so. He threw Evelyn off of him, and she slid on the icy ground.

Evelyn got up and used the arc reactor, sending rivers of electricity through Stark, trying to shock him into unconsciousness. “Get James out of here, Cap!” she called out behind her.

“Stay _out of this,_ ” Tony screamed back at her, his repulsor igniting under her. He aimed his gauntlet, and out flew a chip. Familiar.

Evelyn barely recovered from the repulsor hit when the Faraday chip lodged itself in her neck. Then every nerve on her hand where the electricity was alive was on fire, the crackling of electricity wouldn’t stop, couldn’t. She was sent on her knees, weakened. Tears blurred her vision, and she couldn’t feel anything but the shock her hands were giving herself. Her voice was hoarse in a few seconds with how much screaming was coming out of her mouth.

 

(Proceed to Chapter 18: Evelyn's Choice [Bravura].)


	23. 18. Evelyn's Choice (Bravura)

“He was _brainwashed_! None of this was him! This was all _HYDRA!_ ” Evelyn yelled with a sore throat from screaming. She ran at Tony, and he immediately swung an arm to push her back.

It was different telling this to anyone but Bucky. Bucky had inside knowledge, he knew the truth, and it was a different kind of language used. With Bucky, Evelyn was trying to convince, gentle, fragile.

Here, now, she was begging, pleading for mercy.

Her back hit the ground, knocking the breath out of her.

“You brought nothing to an everything-else fight,” Stark said, managing to quip at the moment, staring at her through the suit.

Evelyn scrambled to her feet, watching Steve pick Bucky up at the corner of her eye. She ran at Stark again, aiming to tackle, take him down, break something, do anything, but Stark swung out an arm, flinging her to the side.

_Shit._

She felt herself slip on the snow between two columns, the ground disappearing below her. Her vision was a blur, the darkness disappearing, opening arms to the whiteness of Siberia, her feet meeting the air first.

_Shit._

She fell. Maybe for a second, maybe for an hour. Did it matter?

_Shit._

Then she was staring at the iron suit peeking over the edge. She was choking, breathing wasn’t an option. Stark’s arm was grabbing her by the neck. No, the collar. The electricity of the chip on her neck was creeping up Stark’s arm.

“Evelyn!” Steve screamed. He was far away now.

“GO!” she managed to scream.

Her hands grabbed at Stark’s suit. The shock of the electricity circled back to her, and she was screaming again, writhing in pain. How could she scream now?

Tony was screaming too.

Then Evelyn was going up, lungs begging for breath, vision going spotty.

Was she ascending into heaven now?

Still choking, resisting the urge to curl up into a ball against the pain of her own power.

Evelyn heard a snap, and she gasped, afraid it was her neck.

Then a punch of breath and electricity entered her lungs, and everything came back. She was clutching at her throat now, coughing, breathing in the air and bio and mechanical electricity near her, arc reactor churning at her chest.

The energy around her flooded in, and she could have cried at its return. Her neck was bare, collar in pieces beside her.

She was on the ground again, breathing.

Stark was laying in front of her, breathless.

She found her feet as she heard Captain and Bucky shift footsteps behind her. She held her hand out and felt the energy of Stark’s suit, its own arc reactor getting weak. She pulled it in a heartbeat, and watched the light of the suit go dark.

“Stay down, Tony,” she said, her voice raspy from the choking and the coughing. “Please,” she added, barely a whisper.

Tony’s face was not resolved. He still moved, getting up, face of anger.

Evelyn found his bio-electric activity and pulled the right strings, like a computer. Tony was paralyzed as he stood.

_Shit._

She was choking again. Was the collar still on her?

No. _That would be the guilt_.

Tears were blurring her eyes. She wanted to let Stark go, but she held him there, forcing him to stand and not take another step. Her hands were shaking, her whole person was shaking, but she stayed there and so did he.

_Shit._

Tony was quivering, face visibly fighting, confused. Evelyn could feel him fight under her hold.

This was the line she didn’t think she would ever cross. She was the monster here.

“I’m so sorry,” she blubbered out, tears falling now.

Then she let go. Gladly.

Stark fell with a clank, breathing hard, choking on his words, eyes searching for an explanation.

She quickly walked away from the sight of him on the ground, passing Bucky and Captain, first out of the place.

She heard Stark talking, grief and fury still in his voice. She didn’t hear what he said, but sure it was for her. She was disgraced, banished, a monster.

Evelyn walked even faster.

When the sharp breeze of the fresh air hit her, she wanted to drop to the ground. She wanted to sit there, just sit and think for a while, hoping the silence of the winter sounds overpower the panic in her head. But her feet shuffled through the snow, reaching for the precipice.

“Is everything alright?” a voice cracked in her silence. T’Challa was standing to her left, leaning against his jet. Why didn’t she notice this before? He had his arms wrapped around himself for warmth. The psychiatrist from Berlin was sitting on the bay door, hands restrained behind him, and that same look of fury on his face. He didn’t need a gag, he didn’t need to speak, he was done.

Evelyn looked at him, speechless, suddenly aware of everything wrong. Everything was not alright, but she couldn’t say that out loud. She took her hands and hid them under her arms, perhaps her shivering could pass off the shakes.

“No one’s dead,” she simply said, and smiled. For that, she had to be grateful. “Tony… Mr. Stark might need a ride home.”

“And him?” she nodded at the psych brooding on the bay door.

“I’m taking him back to Berlin. I’m sure they would be happy to have the real killer in their custody,” T’Challa said, giving a side glare.

The doctor sneered, “The real killers are in that bunker. The Avengers are a plague—”

“Thanks, Ultron,” she spoke over him. She resisted the urge to throttle the man. This was all his fault. This was why they were here, why everything happened the way it did, because some man had a bone to pick.

Evelyn saw T’Challa’s jaw tighten, but his eyes closed, probably resisting the same violent urge that came over her. The psychiatrist fumed, but did not preach any further.

“And the Accords?” she asked T’Challa.

He smiled smugly, “I am a king. They dare not touch me. And there is an explanation for all this.” His hands swept to the psychiatrist. “I am not at fault. Justice will be served.”

“It will be,” she said to him. “When all this is over, Steve and Bucky might need a place.”

T’Challa nodded, but realized the next second, “And you?”

Before Evelyn could answer, snow shuffled behind her.

“Evelyn,” Bucky called out. He was still draped around Steve, but the blood on his face had dried. He seemed so tired, and the opposite of relieved. He looked like he did every time he remembered something, only this time, real reminders of what he did had manifested in front of his face.

Steve looked just as tired, only he was relieved. Sad, tired, but relieved. She’d seen him like that before. He’d worn that face after seeing that other world, and they cried on the floor together while Barton watched from the side.

Evelyn swept to Bucky’s free side and tried to hold him up with what was left of his arm.

“Your highness,” Steve nodded at the king.

“Captain. I’m glad to see you,” T’Challa nodded back.

“Hopefully, this will be the last time,” Steve tried to smile.

“Hopefully,” the king agreed.

Then Steve pulled them away, moving back towards their own quinjet, just a few feet away. She felt Bucky put part of his weight on her, despite the height difference, and she tried to help hold him up.

“What now?” Evelyn broke the silence as they ascended the quinjet’s bay door.

Steve and Evelyn dropped Bucky on the closest seat and they all seemed to sigh with relief. But it wasn’t over. They had to get out of here and figure everything out. Nothing was ever over.

“Turn ourselves in,” Bucky said, leaning his head against the seat. He said it like he was proposing a place to eat.

Evelyn almost laughed, “No way.”

“Not in the condition you’re in,” Steve concurred.

But Bucky still argued, “They need to know I didn’t—”

“You were innocent from the—”

“T’Challa’s taking the psychiatrist—”

“I’m not innocent, I have to answer—”

“None of that was your fault, they can’t hold—”

“ _They need to know_ —”

“I’ll go.”

It came out of Evelyn’s mouth before she realized it. But she knew it from the moment Stark hit the ground after she let go. Maybe even before, when she gave the flashdrive away, when she made that decision in Bucharest in that highway. She’d have to give herself up, one way or another.

“What?” Steve said, but he wasn’t confused. He knew what she was saying.

“No way,” it was Bucky’s turn to reject an idea. “You can’t—”

“I want to. I hurt a lot of people these past—”

Bucky stood. He almost stumbled, but he stood, “So did I, Evelyn. More than you. So I’m—”

“ _James_ ,” she grabbed his face, and she felt the tears come on. She gently guided him back to the chair. “None of that was you. It wasn’t your fault. And you need to know that because I won’t be around to remind you.”

Steve broke in, “Evelyn, we’ll find another—”

“Cap, please,” she pleaded. “There is no other way. No other way that's better, at least.”

“Evelyn…” Bucky began, a quiver in his voice. He put his hand over hers. For a moment, she was waiting for the coldness of his other hand to touch hers. The lack of it only hurt her more.

“They need to know, Bucky. They need to know what’s been done to you. Who better to tell them than _doctorul tău_?”

“What about you?” he asked. He seemed so childlike at that moment, the way his wide eyes looked up at her, the way he tried not to quiver. God.

“I’ll meet the justice I deserve, and that’s fine,” Evelyn’s voice almost broke but she kept it strong. Then she kissed him once, lightly. If it was anything more, she might never leave.

 She pulled her hands from his face and stepped away, “I’ll clear your name. I promise.”

Her feet couldn’t wait to bolt but they also seemed to be made out of lead. She couldn’t see anymore, the tears blurring her vision, “You work on being better, okay?”

“Evelyn,” he stood up again, but she stepped back further, putting her hands up. “You promised.”

“Bucky…” she made a lot of promises. But the one she remembered the most was the one she was keeping. She’d die before she failed him.

The air in the quinjet was heavy, as if a fog filled it up and soaked her to the bone. Steve couldn’t look her in the eye, but she was all Bucky was looking at. Neither of them could look away.

“You can’t go back to Bucharest. I know you love it there, but they’ll be there looking for you,” she said, as if reminding him to take a jacket before leaving the apartment.

He nodded as if this was new information. He pursed his lips to tide them from trembling

“Steve,” she called to him. He looked up and put on a brave face, that stoic face.

“You’ll take care of him, right? And take care of yourself? I know you will.”

He nodded, “I will.” They both knew. They had different ways of knowing, but they both knew.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about finding him. It’s just that I promised. And all that talk about Peggy and people from the past. It wasn’t a joke,” she tried her hardest to keep it together, but she was so close to falling apart. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I just wanted you to understand.”

He nodded, and his eyes stayed soft. They were never hard and cold at her like she expected, like she wanted. She smiled and it quivered, so she put it away.

“Stay low. Keep your head down,” she was saying. She needed to shut up. If she kept talking, she’ll never leave. Maybe that was why she was talking.

Evelyn turned around and faced to meet the Siberian landscape again.

“ _Te iubesc,_ ” Bucky called out before she could get to far.

“ _Si eu te iubesc,_ ” it came out of her mouth before she could think about it. It was reflexive. It only took one time for it to be reflexive. The words were heavy on her, but it was light somehow too. Hard but easy to say. The hardest part was that it could have been the last time she would say it, but easy because it was true.

As she braved the winter, she understood Joanna's choice. To throw yourself in the mercy of suffering so someone else, someone you loved, had a chance. Evelyn braved the weather, pushing past the snow, not looking back, quickly wiping the tears from her face before they could freeze over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song for the road: Breaker of Chains by Ramin Djawadi. Again, thank you so much for reading this far.


	24. 19. Budapest (Ossia)

#### November 5th, 2014, 9AM, Budapest

“Are you sure about this?” Steve said to her. They couldn’t look at each other right now, so they just stared at the same wall of the quinjet, past Joanna’s body in front of them. “It doesn’t have to be you.”

“Yes, it does,” Evelyn couldn’t believe she mustered enough strength to speak. She watched her shaking hands, ball and unballing. What use were these? What use was she?

It hasn’t even been 24 hours since Kolkata. Her body wasn’t even cold yet.

“I know you think it does, but—”

“Steve, stop,” Evelyn’s voice cracked. “She didn’t choose me. I can only make sure that she didn’t do that for nothing. It has to be me.”

At the corner of her eye, she saw Steve nod. He made to hold her hand and she let him.

“I’m sorry, Evelyn,” he said, and that was the moment Evelyn stood up, pulling her hand away, wiping the tears from her face, and gently slapped herself to awareness.

“Legolas, ETA?” she left Steve’s side for the cockpit where Clint piloted the quinjet to Budapest.

“About 5 minutes,” he said, staring at the horizon.

“Can you give me a rundown on what Steve and I are supposed to be doing?” she asked for a distraction.

“It’s classified until we get there.”

Evelyn could hear the pity in his voice. She was only glad that he didn’t look at her or didn’t say sorry. But at least he was there. At least he and Steve were there.

“Update on Stark and Banner?” Steve spoke behind them, continuing the distractions.

Stark and Banner had stayed behind in Kolkata to salvage the device to try to recreate the gamma signature that matched the bombs.

The Team arrived shortly after Joanna had chosen, shortly after every body in the compound had dropped from too much electricity in their bodies. Stark and Banner were there for the device, Steve was there for her. The rest was for the Industries to take care of. Except Joanna. Evelyn wouldn’t leave without Joanna.

“Slow. Getting that hat to work to recreate the signature is a lot harder than thought,” Barton told Steve. “But Nat’s looking for ways to disarm the ones that we found.”

Before Evelyn could check on her façade, a voice crackled through the radio, “ _Unidentified aircraft, this is Station_ Sierra Hotel Golf 3 _, identify yourself, over._ ”

“Filip is that you?” Barton smiled. He covered up the mic and turned to them, “It’s the Budapest base.”

“Figured,” Evelyn said.

“ _Holy shit, Barton,_ ” the voice, Filip, responded almost immediately, “ _What are you doing here, man?_ ”

“I got a November sanctioned transport for Eline,” Barton said formally, as if reading from a script.

Filip laughed, “ _Well, you’re cleared as hell then. I do need your call sign for the records_.”

“It’s Valkyrie 2,” Barton replied.

“ _Oh, shit, you got Captain America on board?_ ”

“It’s in the call sign, Filip,” Barton said coolly.

Filip breathed, “ _Wow, man. Well, you’re cleared for landing._ _I'll let Eline know you're here_.”

"Copy that. Thanks, Filip," Barton said. Then he turned his head to the side, not looking at anyone in particular, "We're here."

* * *

"Fury gave you the all clear to brief them about Wayfinder," said Eline, the one-person welcoming committee and base director, as she led them through the base. She occasionally glanced at Evelyn and Steve as they walked behind her and Clint. Then she saw the agents stopping in their tracks and stared, too.

"Get to work people. HYDRA won't stop just because you did," she commanded, and the stairs and delays flowed once again.

Eline handed Clint a thick manila folder, "You're supposed to go through that whole thing. Thoroughly."

"We're on a time crunch," Barton said.

Eline put her hands up but kept walking urgently, "I handed over control once I handed over that folder." She looked back at Evelyn and Steve and pointed, "You're now subs. Barton's your temporary supervising officer. Everything he says goes."

Barton looked back at them at raised his eyebrows in mischief. Evelyn would've smiled under different circumstances.

They followed Eline as she directed them through more winding hallways until they got to a set of black double doors.

"Here you are. I've called Simisola and biotech down. They'll be here in a minute, Sim has the key." she said, giving them a last once-over, then nodding. "Good luck."

Then she disappeared behind a corner, leaving the three of them alone in the hallway.

"So, what the hell are we doing here? How is this going to help?" Evelyn immediately demanded.

Clint gave the file to Steve, "This is the Wayfinder Project. A couple years ago, a woman, Simisola," he nodded at the file that Steve was quickly flicking through now, "she turned herself in to S.H.I.E.L.D., claimed that she was living a million different lives, claimed she was Enhanced."

"Alternate universes?" Steve burst out in surprise, looking up at Clint for an explanation.

Evelyn grabbed the file from his hands and tried to skim as fast as he did. _Transporter, Traveler. Enhanced. S.H.I.E.L.D., 2003. Angola. Alternate universe. Singularity. Multiple consciousness connected through_ —

"It turns out those million lives she was living were different versions of herself in alternate universes, all connected," Clint explained. "Since then, she's been learning to controlling her powers."

Evelyn stopped, comprehending the coolness. She couldn't comprehend the mass of information in the file that fast, so she gave it back to Steve, who now looked at it with unfocused eyes. "What does this got to do with us?"

A voice called out from the other end of the hall, "No seconds, Barton."

Two figures emerged from the corner that Eline disappeared from. One was a tall woman with ebony skin and a side cut and hazel tipped ends. The other was a mousy looking Southeast Asian man in a lab coat, hands in his pockets, quick short strides to keep up with the woman's long ones.

"Simisola," beamed the woman who spoke, holding out her hand in introduction. "That's Max." She nodded at the man behind her.

Evelyn took their hands and mirrored her smile for a brief second.

"Captain America, it's an honor," she smiled as Steve shut the file and shook their hands.

"The pleasure is mine," said Steve in that trademark voice of American freedom.

"It's not me, Sim," Barton said as he exchanged more handshakes.

Simisola nodded, "Good." She moved past them and inserted a key into the black doors in front of them.

She pushed the doors open and the lights turned on automatically. The room had no windows, and black walls. There was hardly anything in it besides a silver chair at the end of the room, facing them. Two other identical chairs faced the one ahead, and wires of varying thickness and insulation connected the three chairs together.

"Welcome to the Wayfinder room," Simisola said with pride, but weariness tinged her voice.

"I'll have to brief them while they're getting strapped in," Clint said as they followed Simisola into the room.

Evelyn grabbed Clint's elbow, barely navigating through the wires on the floor, "What do you mean strapped in?"

The man, Max, took her and Steve by the arm and guided them to the chairs that faced the one at the end of the room, where Simisola elegantly took her place. At the arm of Simisola's chair was a rosary wrapped around it. She touched it briefly, eyes closed, muttering for a brief moment before looking at them.

"Okay, guys," Clint started, taking the file from Steve's hands and read it, " _Simisola is about to transport you to an alternate universe by locating that universe through a shared connection she has with a version of herself_."

"What?" Evelyn and Steve exclaimed at the same time.

" _Simisola will be sitting at the Transporter Chair at south side of the room_ ," Clint read from the file. Behind him, Simisola waved.

" _You are seated on a Traveler chair. A maximum of two Travelers can be transported in one session. The biotech assistant, Biaggio_ \--"

"It's Max," said Max behind the chairs, not looking up from a computer monitor at the corner of the room. "I'm filling in for Biaggio this week."

"Max," Clint continued with a twitch, " _will make sure that you and the Transporter remains in good health during this session_."

Max then cut between them and Clint, carrying two thin briefcases, "I will be making contact with your faces for a moment, if you will allow me."

"Right on cue, Maximillian," Clint continued from the file, " _Identity is an important part of universe transportation. Please wear photostatic veils so as not to disrupt the alternate universe's continuity_."

"What the fuck," Evelyn muttered under her breath as Max placed a photostatic veil on her face. She felt the cold electricity of the veil on her face as it worked to change her face. She turned to Steve once Max finished applying the veil. "Tell me I'm pretty."

Steve smirked, "Only if you tell me I'm pretty, too." His face had completely changed. Steve wasn't Steve anymore. Just some generic white guy that had traded a clean-shaven face for a blonde 5oclock shadow.

Max disappeared behind the Traveler chairs momentarily, reappearing with electrodes in his hand, "I will be making contact with your abdomen and your skull, if you will allow me."

Clint nodded, and continued to read. " _Please use electrodes to properly transport your vital organs to the next universe_."

"What the fuck, Barton?" Evelyn exclaimed, but she didn't move as Max meticulously placed electrodes on different points on her abdomen.

Clint looked up from the file, "You have to find the bombs in the alternate universe. It's the fastest way we know of." Then he looked back down at the introduction summary, " _Do not worry. No time is lost from the universe you come from. Once the alternate universe Transporter transports you back to your original universe, you will return to the same point in time with a 5 second and 2-foot variation_."

"What does that mean?" Steve said. He, too, tried to hold still as Max placed the electrodes on his abdomen.

"Give or take 5 seconds and 2 feet. It's usually 5 second after the fact," Simisola piped up.

"How about the two feet? 2 feet left? Right? Under the ground?" Evelyn demanded.

"Look, I understand. It's a freaky situation," Clint said, departing from the script in the file.

"No, shit," Evelyn tried not to yell. She tried not to freak out, but she could feel herself shaking. What were they being thrown into, now? Could she survive this? Did Joanna die in vain? Evelyn felt the tears well up again, but she tried to breathe it out.

"But you'll get through this. Nat and I did. We're fine, you will be, too," Barton said. His eyes didn't lie, he didn't have a look of panic. Just reassurance and a tiny lift on the corner of his mouth. Something had happened on their other side.

" _Now there are rules that you must keep in mind when you Travel_ ," Clint continued.

"What, 'don't step on the butterflies?'" Evelyn joked.

"Haven't heard that one before," Max said behind the chairs sarcastically.

"Eline said you were on a time crunch," Simisola called out, almost bored. “And I read the mission briefing Romanoff sent.”

Clint nodded, "Okay, I'll go through this faster." He closed his eyes and sighed, "Just don't kill anyone, don’t get killed, don't tell anyone about your real identities or your original universe, and Simisola and religion are the only regularities in all the universes."

He went back to the file, " _Now take a look at the Traveler next to you. They are now your Traveler buddy. Do not lose your Traveler buddy_."

Evelyn looked at Steve that wasn't Steve. He was the only thing from her universe. The only familiar thing.

"Time for the game plan, Robin Hood," Simisola said.

Barton closed the file, "Sim’s going to try to put you in a universe with the same conditions as this one. Find the bombs, then get back here. Don’t dilly-dally.”

“If I’m good, you’ll be transported in the middle of the parallel mission. If I’m great, the mission will have already taken place and all you have to do is get the information in some file cabinet. But I would prepare for the worst,” Simisola nodded at them.

“Did you get them to sign the consent forms?” Max piped up from behind his computer screen.

“What do we need consent forms for?” Evelyn felt the panic rising.

“In the past—” Max started.

“They’re fine,” Barton shook his head. “Are we ready?” he asked the room in general.

“Vitals are green. Mechanics are green. I’m all green,” Max said, his voice now flat in concentration.

“Are you guys sure about this?” Simisola said to them, her hands already on the armrests of her machine.

Evelyn made sure that the electric currents were flowing properly, from Sim’s end of the machine to the chairs that she and Steve were hooked up in to the little filaments that ended in electrodes stuck on their foreheads and over their vital organs. When she couldn’t find a malfunction as a reason to back out, she looked at the strange man to her left that was Steve.

He was staring at Sim with resolve, trying not to talk himself out of it.

“I’m not really sure what I should be sure about, but it’s too late to back out,” Evelyn said, and he nodded, agreeing.

Barton nodded at them and carefully picked his way to the side, “Then let’s do it.”

The Transporter laughed with a confident smile, “You fuckers are in my hands. Please repeat the rules for protocol.”

“Don’t kill anyone,” Steve stated Sim’s first rule.

Evelyn swallowed again, and felt the anxiety shake her fingers, “You are the constant in all the universe.”

“Besides religion,” Sim added, nodding and briefly touching the rosary wrapped around the arm of her chair. She unlaced the rosary and wrapped it around her hand. “What else?”

“Don’t tell anyone about us or this universe,” Steve stated Sim’s second rule.

Sim nodded. Then she kissed the rosary on her hand and nodded at them, “I don’t try the same place twice, so no one should recognize your veils. See you back here.”

“Check S.H.I.E.L.D. records if everything has already happened. Join the mission if it hasn’t,” Barton reminded them before everything began.

“Ready?” Simisola called out for the final time. There were a few seconds of silence, and she and Barton looked around, expecting something.

“Looks like its 5 seconds after the fact,” Barton clapped, smiling.

Then Evelyn shut her eyes and tensed up, and the wires flowed a synaptic river of glowing red, painting the walls in blood. The glow of the wires reaching their electrodes, and Evelyn heard the sharp intake of Steve’s breath as he prepared to be sent into the unknown.

It happened in an instant. One second, Max and Barton were making their way to the front to face Evelyn and Steve, the red of the wires entering their bodies in a cold heat. In the next second and in a flash of light, they were on the dirt, weapons pointed at them. Evelyn counted five guns, and a bronze spear. But a more numerous amount of bio electric activity.

“Names and allegiance,” said a woman’s voice in the darkness. British.

Evelyn looked at Steve in a panic. _What are our names?_ She asked with her eyes.

And he spoke, “Roger Stevens, S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Evelyn stuttered, “Elle Titanos, S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“You can’t be S.H.I.E.L.D., _we’re_ S.H.I.E.L.D. So, who are you really?” the woman spoke again.

She stepped closer, shedding light into her face. A full head of curly dark golden brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. The hairs that were loosened from an obviously recent battle struggle settled on her square jaw. The woman stepped into the light, and a quiet “holy shit” escaped Evelyn’s mouth, but Steve was struck silent with awe.

A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent spoke up with a familiar drawling voice that immediately broke Evelyn’s heart, “Seems lover boy here ain’t ever seen a pretty lady.”

The familiar voice was attached to a familiar face when Joanna stepped closer, gun in hand, still aiming. Evelyn resisted every urge to get off the ground and run to her. Before Evelyn could let her emotions manifest themselves, the woman with the brown hair crouched in between Evelyn and Steve, and they had the chance to fully look at her. She lifted her brown leathered goggles to her forehead to reveal piercing blue eyes flecked with green. And in the glorious moonlight, her red, white, and blue combat suit shone brightly like a beacon of patriotic hope in the night.

The woman frowned a familiar frown full of calculation and strategy, “We’re taking them back to Fury.”

* * *

 Joanna unbound Evelyn and led her through another door in the Kolkata safe house. There sat Steve, looking down, trying not to stare at the woman in the Captain America suit standing in front of him.

“Stevens,” Evelyn identified, recalling his stupid cover name.

Steve only pursed his lips together, familiarity crossing his face as he recognized Evelyn's voice from a stranger's mouth. Then he went back to stare at the woman with an eerily similar uniform to the one he left back at their world.

Then Joanna sat Evelyn down next to Steve and bound her hands behind the chair once more.

The woman in the suit smirked, “Couldn’t crack her, Joanna?”

Joanna only scowled as she left the room.

Evelyn tried to treat Joanna like Joanna and not like Joanna as she was interrogated. She tried not to feel anything, she tried to ignore the wrenching of her heart. _This wasn’t your Joanna. That Joanna's gone_. Repeating, repeating, repeating during the whole interrogation and questioning. Somehow, Evelyn managed not to crack or break. She came close, though. The more Joanna talked, demanded, showed Evelyn those same micro expressions that she knew so well, the more Evelyn felt like falling apart. But she held off long enough that Joanna moved her to sit beside Steve at the other interrogation room.

The woman in the suit smiled a warm smile. Was it just the suit that made it look like every move the woman made was in the likeness of Steve? But she said nothing else, and followed Joanna through the door.

“I guess Simisola’s only _good_ ,” Evelyn gathered the voice to tell Steve next to her, who finally looked up. Then the tears came. The tears that fell when Joanna fell and that refused to fall the rest of the time. _Shit._

But he said nothing, only sighing.

“Do you know who that woman was?” Evelyn said, trying not to let the crying affect her tone. She sniffled and wiped her cheeks against her should as best she could.

 “No,” Steve said, his voice scratchy from what Evelyn could guess were hours of silence. “Everything seemed to have changed, too. Fury’s—"

"Oh my god, Fury's alive," Evelyn exclaimed, remembering who they were waiting for.

Steve only nodded vigorously, "And hands on. He's never been this hands on. And the Team. I didn’t see Stark.”

“And we’ve been replaced,”

“By complete strangers,” Steve nodded solemnly.

“And somebody had a spear,” Evelyn noted.

Before they could talk about it anymore, the door burst open, and Fury in a standard black tactical suit emerged through the threshold, the rest of the Team peeking over his shoulder before he closed the door.

He had opted out of wearing his black coat, but the black eyepatch still sat on his left eye. Evelyn could feel the same electrical activity in his eye as the one from their own universe.

Fury didn’t hesitate for a moment to begin his interrogation, “How do you know about the Wayfinder Project?”

“That’s how we got here,” Evelyn answered before Steve could.

“What are the rules?” Fury said, sitting himself across the table, leaning over so he could peer at them with his normal eye.

“Don’t kill, don’t get killed,” Evelyn recalled.

“No alternate revelations. And there’s religion,” Steve spat them out like Sim said to.

“And Simisola, if that’s her name. She didn’t really specify if her name changes,” she added. _Nobody really specified anything._ Her mind still kept trying to wrap her head around the entire universe they had entered, and seeing Fury here in front of her only made her head split. If she stopped and thought about any of this, she might die of a brain bleed.

Fury sat back, evaluating. He knew there was a gravity to the situation. Then he said, “We’ve never had visitors. You’re our first.”

“And hopefully last,” she said, not saying anything else. She wasn’t sure what counted as telling about their original universe.

Fury nodded, brows furrowed, deep in thought. “What do you need?”

“Where are you in the mission?” Steve said with authority.

Fury cocked his eyebrow at him, and that was when they realized that Steve with his own face could only talk to Fury like that in their universe.

Steve continued with a softer tone, “Just to see if we’re at the same point in time.”

Fury relaxed his eyebrow, “You’ve come at an interesting time, actually. We’ve captured the freak with the mind control helmet. We’re looking for his bombs now.”

The thought of Carvajal got Evelyn’s blood hot. She only didn’t kill him because he was already dead. And she couldn’t kill him here, either. They were in the universe where everyone was lucky, apparently.

“How many have you found?” Evelyn tried to distract herself from the sudden rage.

“12 out of 17,” Fury said. “Got bomb teams all over the continent with my local S.H.I.E.L.D. running point.”

There were only 14 in their world.

“We just need those locations,” Steve said, turning down the dial on authority.

Fury nodded, “Is that all?”

Evelyn nodded back, not wanting to drag the conversation, not wanting to stay here any longer than they needed to be, “Just recon. If that’s all you have for us.”

 “I’ll get both of you up to speed with the Team, we’ll see if we have anything for you while you’re here,” Fury rose from his chair and Evelyn let her bonds inhibit her reflex of rising after him. “But I’m sure you’ve already made yourselves acquainted with Joanna and Essem?”

“Essem?” the parallel universe couldn’t get more confusing to Evelyn

“ _S.M_., Miss America,” Fury said, as if we knew that already. “Don’t you have her where you’re from?”

Steve opened his mouth to claim Miss America’s title for himself, but Evelyn beat him to it, “Telling you would be breaking the rules, wouldn’t it, Fury?”

Fury nodded, but from that vague answer, they could all agree that Miss America wasn’t part of their universe. He stood up and threw the door open.

“Let ‘em go,” he said to whoever was listening. It was Miss America, S.M., that came through the door without protest and untied them permanently.

“Another round of bomb squads for everyone. Until then, introductions are to be made,” Fury said, then sweeping out of the room. If he was wearing his coat on, that would have brought an onset of a breeze.

Evelyn rubbed the marks that the ropes made on her wrist. “Thanks,” she said.

“The name’s S.M.,” she replied, holding her hand out. Her nails were painted red, though chipped. “Sarah Michaela Rogers.”

* * *

 

The quinjet cut smoothly through sky, easily resisting turbulence that would shake any other aircraft. But from the faces and movements of everyone in the jet, it seemed that the jet was going to crash any minute.

Evelyn only knew everyone was scared because she’d seen it before. If she was really a newbie with this group of agents, she wouldn’t spot the telltale signs of their nervousness and fear that manifested every time they did something like this.

Aulani was breathing too regularly; she was counting her inspirations and expirations with “alligators” and “Mississippi's” and “battleships.” Aragorn kept glancing at his hands, constantly fighting and winning the battle over the urge to bite his nails. They both managed to keep up their habits as they conversed quietly, Aulani occasionally laughing at the stupidity of Aragorn’s jokes.

And Joanna was Joanna, rhythmically tapping her feet, though no one brought up how annoying it was. She managed to glare at Evelyn and Steve as she tapped her feet away.

Despite that, Evelyn still missed her, couldn’t hold anything against her. She missed everything about her. She missed the way this Team was still intact, how Aulani’s face didn’t smile so flatly from sadness, how Aragorn was still conscious, cracking the worst jokes, how Nat was even _here._ These people were jarring compared to her people.

And Antelmo Carvajal. He was gagged and bound, separated from everyone. Evelyn only stopped staring at Joanna to kill Carvajal with her eyes. The Team didn’t want to let him out of their sight, so the only solution was to take him with them. Evelyn kept hoping the turbulence was a prelude to a bad crash that killed him. It was the only way he would die.

Steve, meanwhile, couldn’t stop staring at S.M. Her mannerisms were eerily just like Steve’s. The way she looked as she thought, eyes focused on one spot on the ground, brows furrowing at different degrees every now and then as each thought changed.

Then Steve dared to speak to her, something Evelyn had been wanting to do since they were properly acquainted.

“Why that name?” he said, breaking the almost quiet air in the quinjet. Aulani and Aragorn halted their conversation. Nat looked back from the cockpit before turning back forward, but she was now attentive to the conversation behind her.

S.M. looked up from the spot in the ground, and furrowed her brows in confusion, “What?”

“‘Miss America.’ Why that name?” Steve repeated his question.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath to hear her answer. And S.M.’s eyes dulled for a second, as if watching years of memories in a brief moment. Then she came to, a sad smile appearing on her face.

“I didn’t really have to keep the name,” she started. “But it seems like a family name now. I wanted to honor my dad.”

Steve and Evelyn’s heart seemed to stop at the same time, but it was Steve’s face that went white.

“Your dad?” Evelyn asked, controlling her curiosity so that her voice was quiet.

S.M. nodded, “Captain America. Went down with the HYDRA bomber during World War 2.”

There was a moment of baffled silence between Evelyn and Steve, who shouldn’t be here yet. And he had a daughter that doesn’t really exist to them. With this information, it hurt even more to know about the things Steve has missed under the ice.

Evelyn wanted to reach out, comfort her friend, but that was out of Elle Titanos’s character. Roger Stevens shouldn’t be distraught. But Steve was, and she couldn’t help him. He sat there, successfully suppressing the need to react to the new information.

“Did they find his body?” Evelyn tried to pull Steve out of his head.

S.M. nodded, narrowing her eyes at them, like Evelyn’s question was already a known fact. But she nodded, “He didn’t survive the crash.”

Evelyn swallowed, but learned she had nothing to fear. Steve was here, from her universe, alive and well. But she couldn’t help but feel guilty. S.M. didn’t grow up with a father, while her father in another universe was sitting in the ice for 60-something years, waiting to be found.

The fact still couldn’t sit. Steve’s a father. _Was_ a father. S.M. wasn’t truly his. Not in his universe. Just like how this Joanna that stared daggers at them wasn’t hres.

“How old are you?” Steve asked real quiet. Evelyn was surprised he could speak. He was still pale from the shock, but he was still now, relaxed, stopped shaking.

But S.M. smiled, “Technically 56, but biologically 28.”

Steve seemed to writhe under his skin, he was tortured. Evelyn wondered why.

“A gift from Dad himself, along with the super strength and high alcohol tolerance. What they did to him, it modified his DNA. And he passed it on to me. I age twice as slow as the healthiest human being,” S.M. declared proudly, but it was a false proud. It was as if she was taught to be proud of this fact.

“And Peg— your mother?” Steve caught himself.

That was when S.M.’s smile faltered for a brief second, “Still going.”

That look on her face was enough to say that S.M. Rogers’s mother wasn’t doing well, and Steve looked just as heartbroken. It must have been hard for S.M.; everyone else, especially her mother, ageing faster than she was. That must have hurt just as much as being a man out of time.

There was an awkward silence in the jet. It seems that everyone besides Evelyn and Steve found out more about S.M. than they’d ever had or liked to. That was when Nat cleared her throat.

“Banner says they’ve got two more hits,” she said quietly, though her voice was like a shuttle launch in the silence of the jet.

Banner and two other engineers were on another quinjet flying as fast as they could all over Asia. The helmet and the tech that traced the identical signals of the bombs on the continent were in that quinjet, too. The jet everyone else was on was in charge of running point for the bomb squads.

“How far from here?” S.M. approached the cockpit.

“Manila is about 5 minutes from here at Mach 17,” Nat said, eyes ahead. “Then Osaka. A little bit longer, but I can push to 20.”

“I’ll take Manila,” Evelyn volunteered, shrugging. “I speak the language. Why not?”

Steve widened his eyes for a brief second, scared of losing his Traveler buddy.

Then S.M. turned towards them and wore authority like a comfortable shirt, and everyone recognized it with their attention, “Aulani. You speak Japanese, you’re taking Osaka. Aragorn, you’re taking Macau instead.”

Then S.M. pointed at Steve, “I’m assuming you want to stay with your partner?”

Steve swallowed, to which Joanna scoffed, but kept silent. “If it’s not a problem.”

“It’s not,” S.M. replied, not even giving her parallel father a second thought. “And like before, Banner and his tech team are running extraction. They only have one more bomb left, so it shouldn’t be too long a wait. You could get your data from them once you rendezvous.”

With those words, most everyone was brought back into the hell they were undertaking. Only Evelyn and Steve were still shell shocked from the new universe, and Steve looked like he wanted to be yelling or crying. Evelyn had never seen him like that, it scared her.

And everyone looked just as scared, though scared about different things. Old habits of nervousness returning to the Fourth with the breath counts and foot tapping.

And at that moment, S.M. proved more that she was Steve Rogers’s daughter as she stood up and confidently hooked the shield on the harness on her back.

“Hey,” she said, that voice of authority taking over. Everyone turned their heads and sat up, getting more attentive.

“I know you’re all scared,” she began, “Two bombs went off, but that’s because no one knew what they were doing. We have intel, now. We’re smarter than before. Banner and his tech have our backs.”

They all swallowed, and at the cockpit, Nat took a deep breath of attempting relaxation.

Then her voice went quiet, “They might know we’re coming.”

But that didn’t scare them anymore than they were already. Instead, they looked at S.M., and it seemed that their minds were already made up that they’d be giving their lives for this. It might have been a simple disarming mission, but it got complicated twice for other people. Who says it wasn’t going to be complicated for them?

“But they don’t know the force you’re bringing into this. It’ll be a fire fight, they’re out to carry their mission. What they don’t know is we are too. We’re going to go in there, right that cocksucker’s wrong,” she nodded at the gagged Carvajal in the back, “and we’re going to get out.

“So,” S.M. began to conclude. “Let’s finish this. For Stark.”

At those words, the jet shook as Nat landed the jet nearest to the bomb’s locations. It was all a blur for Evelyn. She saw Aragorn walk out of the jet and meet his local tac team, but her chest felt empty. Stark was dead. An explosion had ripped him to pieces. Steve was dead. Who else was dead here? Where was she?

Five minutes passed and Nat landed them in Manila. It was Steve’s turn to pull Evelyn out of her head with a shake on the shoulder.

“You gonna be okay?” Joanna asked her as they were leaving the jet. The sneer wasn’t totally gone, but there was concern there. Was there a universe where they were both alive?

“Yeah. Just haven’t been back here in a while.” Evelyn lied as she followed Steve down the slope of the quinjet bay door.

S.M. nodded at them as she tossed two earpieces, “Satellite connected. You can switch it to local channels. Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Steve smiled too wide as he caught the earpieces. S.M.’s eyebrows knitted at his quirk, but she couldn’t make anything else of it as the quinjet closed its doors and rose back up to the sky.

As soon as they were gone, Evelyn spoke, “I’m probably dead. I probably died in one of those explosions. Where else could I be? And I’m going to die here again.”

“I’m dead, too. But I don’t see any Nazi bombers that I’m going to crash into the Arctic. Do you?” he looked at her, trying to talk her out of the mindset as he led her to the location of the local tac team and bomb squad. "So, you're not dying here, Evelyn."

Evelyn looked back at him, “Your stranger face takes the magic away from your pep talks.”

Steve laughed, but only for a moment, “There’s our team. Let’s try not to die.”

* * *

 

“Bye, guapo! Lakas ng dating!” one of the Filipino tac members called out to Steve once they turned to leave for the extraction point. The local S.H.I.E.L.D. correspondent had been satisfied with their statements and let them go. Behind the rest of the tac team waiting to give their statements was the bomb squad, wheeling out the 80-pound bomb with its scepter trigger wired and glued on the corner.

“What did they say?” Steve asked discreetly. He waved at them, momentarily taking a hand away from his bleeding arm where a bullet had lodged itself.

They had disarmed the bomb in less than 10 minutes, but the whole ordeal took them an hour. Carvajal just had armed men stationed to protect the bomb or set it off at his word. Evelyn easily took them out with a quick discharge of high voltage electricity. She’d done it before at the compound in their world. It was easier, now. Still, Steve had gotten shot and the tac team unloaded a whole clip each on the combatants. The place with towering sky scrapers around them had been evacuated once Banner had found the bomb, and it was just up to Evelyn and her team to clear the area of hostiles. The bomb team was quick about their tasks in their suits and wires and remote-controlled cars. Once they finished, the local police were on the scene, bagging and tagging bodies, and the local S.H.I.E.L.D. correspondent was interviewing everyone involved.

Evelyn could spare a smile. The bomb didn’t go off, nobody died, the mission was a success, the mood could be good, even if it was just for a short moment.

“Good things about you. Good things, Stevens,” she only said, patting him on the arm.

Then they walked silently to the empty field where Banner had told them where the jet would land. Evelyn was trying to sort out her thoughts about everything, choosing which to think about, which to vocalize, and which to wish to permanently forget when Steve spoke up.

“Talking about this world and everything we’ve seen so far is like talking shit about someone sitting two feet away,” he said with an uneasy smile that was so strange and yet so familiar on his photostatic face.

“This topic is too meta,” she resisted to slap him on his bleeding arm as a reflex to his cursing.

Steve laughed as the Banner’s quinjet, identical to the one they were dropped off in, landed on the field in front of them.

“Time to meet the rest of their Team,” Evelyn put a hand at the crook of his elbow for comfort and walked with Steve to the opening door. The outside was identical, but this quijet had more tech strewn around. There were at least three solid computers. And then there was the mind control helmet at the center of a table drilled into the floor of the jet.

“You the intruders?” Banner was there to welcome them, and behind him was Aragorn with his face strapped to an oxygen mask. Evelyn realized she was already starting to forget about her Team and Aragorn’s anxiety induced asthma. Too fast. Her memories were going too fast.

“Titanos,” Evelyn recalled her pseudonym with a wave, bringing herself back to the present.

“Rogers…” Steve coughed. “Roger Stevens.”

There was a brief micro expression as Banner tried to understand that stutter, but once he saw Steve’s bleeding arm, he turned to one of his team mates, “Get the aid kit.”

“I’m fine,” Steve said, shaking Banner’s hand as he held on to his blood.

“Don’t listen to him,” Evelyn took Banner’s hand. “Patch him up before he bleeds to death. Have you found the last bomb yet?”

Banner nodded, leading them into the jet. “S.M. and the rest of her Team landed in Jakarta about 15 minutes ago. We’re meeting up with them. Ready for takeoff, Piper.”

The woman at the cockpit with a pilot’s headset and hands on the steering flipped switches with a nod. The jet shook for a moment and then they were in the air.

“Fury said you needed something from our data banks?” Banner said, walking to the nearest computer.

“The location of the bombs. Maybe everything you have on the process of finding them,” Evelyn said as Steve sat down beside Aragorn to get patched up. Aragorn nodded at him with his face mask, and Steve couldn’t help but give an expression of endearment.

“Who do you want me to send it to?” Banner was now tapping and swiping in mid air where the computer’s interface had jumped off the physical screen.

“Uh…” she looked at Steve that wasn’t Steve for an answer. He only shrugged as one of Banner’s team members bandaged his bullet wound.

“You got a free thumb drive hanging around?” she reddened.

Banner gave her a once over, perhaps analyzing what made Evelyn so weird, “Sure thing.”

As he moved the computer’s light interface with his hands and copied the data over on a thumb drive he produced from a drawer, he looked at her with scrutinizing eyes, “Have I met you before?”

 _Are you from this universe?_ his tone seemed to say.

But Evelyn shook her head, “This is my first job off the desk.”

“What base you from? Post-HYDRA, I mean” he tossed her the thumb drive with everything in it.

 _Shit._ Which bases still existed here? “That’s classified,” she gave him a smirk.

Banner shrugged it off, “Anything else from us?”

Steve stood, “Actually can I see the map?”

“And a sharpie?” Evelyn asked. She wasn’t sure if the thumb drive or anything else that wasn’t part of their body would carry over in their trans-universe journey.

Just as Banner was pulling up the information for Steve to commit to memory, Aragorn jumped from his seat.

“Oh, fuck,” he exclaimed, his panicked voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

“Sir, you should open up the comms. You want to hear this,” Piper spoke from the cockpit, a tone of urgency in her voice.

After Banner tossed Evelyn a felt pen, he tapped a few buttons and the audio came on through the jet’s PA system.

It was Joanna and S.M., their voices desperate and raw, as if they’d been screaming. And Antelmo Carvajal was in the background. And everything sounded all too familiar.

“It’s one or all of us, Joanna,” Antelmo’s voice was distant.

Banner turned to Piper, “Push it. And tell Aulani to wait.”

She nodded and pushed the jet to Mach 25 as the live audio played out before them. It was all so familiar, but it felt weird to not be there. As if it was a fever dream happening before her. There was a cacophony of screaming, bargaining, pleading. S.M. plead to Joanna to shoot, Joanna tried to talk it out, saying that Banner and his team would get there and end all of this.

Evelyn didn’t realize but she fell to her knees, and everything seemed to be shaking. Then Steve was beside her, his arms around her. Like he had done immediately after they had found her and Joanna, exactly like it.

_It couldn’t be happening again._

But it was, and Evelyn would always be there to witness it. One form or another.

The standoff could have lasted an infinity or a nanosecond. Evelyn didn’t know. The audio had faded out, but she knew what they were saying, what they were screaming, what they were hoping deep down. Then the jet shook and the feeling of weightlessness as it landed had taken over. Before she knew it, Evelyn was on her feet, rushing to save her. She felt herself pull away from Steve trying to restrain her. _You can’t get killed. You can’t die here._

But Joanna shouldn’t die, either.

The cool night air of Jakarta was a contrast to Evelyn’s hot rage. Then S.M. was a figure in Evelyn’s tunnel vision. That desperate tear-streaked face that mirrored the one Evelyn had not long ago. Her body wasn’t even cold yet.

She felt her mouth move, her throat make a sound, and S.M. pointed inside the building. And they went together, running, but it felt like molasses. S.M. was faster though, but then she stopped, Steve was there, grabbing her by the arms. Then he had Evelyn too. And she didn’t resist. Something in her accepted the truth of everything, and it didn’t let her resist.

_It’s too late. Banner said—_

_I can do it. She’s just there_. Evelyn thought, and S.M. said out loud. They were united in thought for a brief moment. United in desperation, in goal.

But before S.M. could pull away from Steve’s grip, the silence and darkness of the Jakartan night had turned into an ear-splitting flash and a column of fire erupted where the building was. And everything in this world is as it was in Evelyn’s.

* * *

 

Steve had told her everything when they had time alone as they waited for S.M. to pilot them back to Budapest. Evelyn broke down when the audio came on, and she went running out when they got to Jakarta. In the audio, Joanna managed to resist the device’s control. She fought Carvajal as long as she could, but he eventually took the helmet back. Then he triggered the bomb, Banner caught it by the change in signature. He told Steve there was a delay. But it would have been too late for Joanna. She was too close.

It didn’t matter what happened. Evelyn couldn’t breathe all the same. But somehow, her lungs filled with air, and she didn’t pass out. And somehow, when S.M. entered the jet with red rimmed eyes and a flat face, Evelyn breathed and offered a stranger’s condolences.

She sat beside Steve and his strange face in silent grief when she remembered, “Unbuckle your seatbelt.” It was the first thing she said to Steve in an infinity. Her voice sounded strange.

And he didn’t protest, unclicking the buckle.

“Let’s see those abs,” she pointed at the ground for him to lie flat as she uncapped the felt pen.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” S.M. took her eyes off the sky for a brief moment to see what was happening.

“Evelyn,” he sighed, but it wasn’t a reaction to the idea of writing the locations on his chest. It was at the fact that she tried to ignore everything that just happened, acting like everything was good. He unzipped his tac suit from the side and bared his chest, laying flat on the ground.

 “Just copying our information to more tangible places,” Evelyn said to S.M, not looking at her. in the eye, trying not to let her voice break.

S.M. shrugged and turned back to the sky.

“Is that all you’re going to talk today?” Steve said so quietly that only Evelyn could hear.

“Please, Steve,” she said.

 _Bashundhara City, Dhaka, Bangladesh,_ she wrote just below his right collarbone in neat legible handwriting. _Port Grand Promenade, Karachi, Pakistan,_ she wrote next.

“One way or another, you’re going to let it out,” he said to her quietly.

She knew he wanted to get into it. He wanted to be of comfort. _Seoul, Chongqing, Bangkok,_ she wrote in silence.

“It doesn’t feel real right now, Steve. Not with the faces we’re wearing. And not while we’re here. This is a dream right now. So,” Evelyn stopped, blinking through her tears. _Kuala Lumpur, Singapore, Taipei._ “I don’t want to hear it right now.”

Steve sighed, but let her have her way. She was disappointed he didn’t put up a fight. She wanted someone to tell her it was going to be alright, everything was going to be fixed, it will get better. But she didn’t want to hear out loud the lies she’d been telling herself. Because then…

_Hanoi, Hyderabad, Kolkata._

Kolkata.

Before anything could settle in her head, a voice through the radio piped up, “ _Unidentified aircraft, this is Station_ Sierra Hotel Golf 3 _, please slow down to commercial air speed and identify yourself, over._ ”

Evelyn tensed, stopping her scribbling on Steve, “Who’s that?”

“It’s the Budapest base,” S.M. said, untroubled. She picked up the headset and spoke to the other end in a clear enunciating voice, “Sierra Hotel Golf 3, this is Valkyrie 2. We should have November clearance to land, over.”

Evelyn and Steve looked at each other when they heard the call sign. The jet gently shuddered as it slowed down to standard plane speed.

“ _Roger that, Valkyrie 2. You are cleared for landing. Head of base is waiting for you on the premises. Over and out,_ ” the voice finished.

S.M. took the headset off and turned to give them a small smile, “We should be there in about 5 minutes. You guys okay back there?

_Bishkek, Kabul, Macau._

Steve looked up and gave Aulani a small pretend smile, “I’m fine, thanks.”

_Osaka._

“How are you doing?” Steve asked, putting his head back down. He breathed deeply as he waited for his not-daughter’s response.

_Manila._

S.M. sighed, and there was a silence for a while. Evelyn shot a glare at him, and he realized his mistake too late. But all S.M. did was sigh the second time, “I’m hanging on… By hairs but hanging on.”

_Jakarta._

Evelyn shot Steve another look. _As much as you love giving talks, this is the last person you should be giving a talk to,_ she tried to say with her eyes. But the jet shook before Steve could say anything more, and that elevator weightlessness took over them.

“You’re done,” Evelyn said to Steve, standing up and capping the felt pen.

“And we’re here,” S.M. said. Once Steve zipped up his suit in a fluster, she she flipped a switch and opened the bay doors. Then she took point and led them out of the jet and into the identical Budapest base where their old world waited.

* * *

 

Eline existed here, and she was just as Type A as she was in their universe. She led them through the Budapest base, barking at everyone who stopped their work to look at Miss America among them. Then when they reached a door, she stopped.

“This is as far as you can go,” she turned to Miss America behind Evelyn and Steve.

“I guess this is goodbye,” S.M. smiled at them. Evelyn was amazed at how good she was at smiling through everything that happened.

“I’m assuming you know your way around?” Eline asked them impatiently.

“Actually, yeah,” Evelyn said.

Eline nodded, “I’ve called Simisola and biotech down. They should be here in a minute.” She didn’t check if Steve or Evelyn heard and just walked away, her head already in different assignments and places.

The three looked at each other and exchanged brief handshakes, but it seemed Steve wanted to say more to his daughter that would never be his. His not-daughter that had gone through the trauma that Evelyn was put through. Instead, he turned away, and Evelyn followed.

But before they could go through the doors and disappear forever, S.M. called out, “Thanks for everything.”

It wasn’t sardonic. Evelyn expected sardonic, especially the way the past 24 hours went. It was genuinely grateful.

They both turned back, and Evelyn felt the sad smile twitch on her face.

“It was a privilege working with you,” Steve said with the utmost respect usually reserved for the noblest he’d come across. This time it was for his not-daughter.

“And I’m sorry about…” Evelyn drifted off, the words catching in her throat, and she felt the tears coming on like they did the first time this happened. “Sorry about Joanna,” she finished weakly.

She’d heard those words before, now she was saying them. It hurt to say them. It meant Evelyn was nothing to this Joanna.

S.M. nodded, swallowing her grief at the same moment Evelyn did. “Thank you.”

There was that look on S.M.’s face, one Evelyn knew too well. She’d seen it in the mirror for months.

“I know you think you could’ve done more,” Steve began to say, and for a moment, Evelyn thought he was talking to her. Instead he looked at the floor, just as S.M. had done back at the jet. It felt like he was talking to both of them, saying the words Evelyn needed to hear all this time, and saving S.M. from a slippery slope Evelyn could barely stop from falling through.

“But you couldn’t have,” Steve continued. “Once you start blaming yourself for deaths that aren’t your fault, there’s no coming back. So don’t.”

Steve had a lot of nerve telling this to a stranger, to a revered figure. But everyone knew S.M. needed this from anyone, just like Evelyn did all this time, and it didn’t hurt that it came from her father, though she didn’t really know it.

There was shock on S.M.’s face, then deep thinking. It seems the three of them were, at different points in the conversation, all on the verge of a breaking down.

“You’re an amazing woman, Sarah,” he said. He wasn’t admitting it. Admittance meant reluctance, and Steve didn’t hesitate. He was declaring it.

“I know your father would’ve be proud. Wherever he is. I know he’d think you’d grown up to be everything he dreamed to be, and more.” he said, his voice on the edge of cracking.

Evelyn thought that it was in his genetic code to know the right things to say at the right time, especially to his own blood. For the first time during this journey, she put a hand on his arm for comfort. That moment, she felt him shaking, it was barely noticeable.

S.M. should’ve found his declarations and advice odd, but she didn’t. She smiled at them, at Steve, as if she knew him, who he was.

“You think so?” she asked as if this was the first time she’d heard it. It probably was the first time she’d heard it said like that.

Steve nodded with his shaking smile, “I know so.”

And he did know.

But before he could say anything else, and he was at edge of saying everything, Simisola appeared in the hallway. This Simisola had traded in her side cut with a sky blue colored hijab around her head. Behind her was a different man, taller, and not Asian. Maybe this was Biaggio.

Evelyn gently tugged at his arm, “We gotta go.”

It was the truth, and she’d been feeling it the longer they stayed. The more time they spent here, the less time they’d have to find the bombs back in their universe, even though that wasn’t the case. She just felt like they were going to be late for something.

Steve looked at her, eyes pleading for a second longer here, but he saw Simisola approaching them and nodded. He smiled at S.M. quickly and sadly. Then he turned away and disappeared into the door as quickly as his face faded from the happy facade he barely kept up in front of his daughter.

“Good luck,” Evelyn said before following Steve through the doors, not waiting for a response from Miss America.

“Got your map?” Sim asked behind them as they all made their way to the Wayfinder room exactly where it was in their world. She spoke as if they knew this Simisola. And maybe they did. She _was_ the same in all the universes. She just looked different.

Steve nodded as they let Simisola open the doors with her key, “Eidetic memory.”

“And I sharpied it into his washboard abs,” Evelyn joked, but it hurt to feel anything but grief at the moment. She couldn’t even smile. She only paid attention to the thumb drive in her shoe that dug into her foot.

Simisola and the man, who was named Paul and was filling in for Biaggio this week, led them into the room. The similarities between this world and their world had ended when they saw the walls were painted white and had some kind of carbon fiber pattern to it.

“The walls are different,” Simisola read Evelyn’s thoughts as everyone took their respective places around the room. “It helps differentiate where I am and where I need to take you.”

Evelyn only nodded as Paul placed the electrodes over their vital organs.

Just a moment before Sim began the process, she spoke, “It’s normal.”

“What?” Evelyn asked. Steve wasn’t bothered to look up from the floor.

“What you’re feeling, it’s normal. Everyone going back home sees things that changes them,” Sim explained, a sympathetic look on her face. _I’m glad I’m not you_ , her eyes seemed to say.

“One thing you’ll have to know,” Sim continued.

They both paid attention now.

“You can’t come back here. You can’t travel like this ever again. It’ll wreck your body. You’ll never find the right universe, you’ll never find the same circumstances again, so I’m telling you now: don’t try it. No matter how invincible you think you are,” Sim said, a grave look on her face now.

Before they could react to any of the new information, the world was fading and, in a flash, the white carbon fiber walls of the Wayfinder room turned into black velvet.

"Five and a half, six," Barton stopped counting abruptly.

From the look of fascination and curiosity on Max’s scrutinizing face in front of her, Sim with her side cut observing her across the room, and the cold floor of the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility on her stomach, Evelyn knew she was home.

Clint approached them, staring, wide eyed, “How did it...” but he drifted off.

Steve moved beside her, shifting from his butt to his knees, slowly, his mind elsewhere. When Evelyn dusted herself off from the floor, they met eyes. It was like a mirror at that moment, Evelyn’s old and newfound sorrow reflecting in Steve.

But they did what mirrors images don’t and fell apart in each other’s arms. Evelyn was shaking, but she realized it was Steve quietly crying against her, then she realized it was her too. Together they recalled and longed and wept for the people that don’t belong to them and the things that will never be and the things they now knew.


	25. 20. Adante Tres Expressif

#### January 27th, 2015, Bucharest

It was an impulse buy. Evelyn let the feeling of buying on impulse carry her away. She hardly felt this before, it was always Joanna or Stark shooting first and asking questions later. There was the one time when she did that, but everything had gone to absolute shit. But this. This had that feeling of being able to make her own decision, having control, even though it was over a 90 lei piano keyboard purchase. Small battles.

But when she heard the quiet taps of Bucky’s knock on her door, she wasn’t so sure. Still, she wiped the keys down and kept pressing down at the key that clicked each time she pressed it.

Middle C- _click_. Middle C- _click._

“What’s this?” Barnes asked quietly.

As usual, he shut the door gently, barely making a noise against the frame, then noiselessly peeling his boots off, his toes curling momentarily against the cold wooden floor. He carefully made his way in front of her, but leaving plenty of space to tackle her or pounce. The take-out food rustled in his left hand with each step.

She noticed the difference from yesterday, he was closer by a foot. She almost smiled at the progress.

“A piano,” Evelyn moved to stand beside the keyboard. She saw he tried hard not to twitch into attack mode at her sudden movement, but he held still. A modest smile was frozen on her face; she still didn’t know how to act around him.

“Music therapy,” She almost put her hands up in a showman manner showing off the piano.

His face was utter confusion, and she wished her mannerisms didn’t seem so hostile and erratic. She wished she had it down, she wished she knew how to move around him. Still, she moved normally. She knew he’d get used to it, that he’d trust her.

“Sorry. I should exp—I’ve read and checked with sources that music helps with cognitive function, sometimes memory recall. Just thought it was a gentle way of doing things,” Evelyn trialed off that Barnes cocked his head slightly to hear.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Evelyn blurted out with volume, her suddenly booming voice shaking the air in the apartment.

He watched her face, slightly furrowed his eyebrows, a shade of pity moving on his face. Then he smiled slightly, “What do you need me to do?”

And at that moment, she was grateful. The impulse buy made sense now, and she was a step closer to helping Barnes.

* * *

 

The music therapy would continue for the next year, and together they would learn beginner level songs at different keys. Each night, she’d go to bed with the echoing tones of “Marry Had a Little Lamb” or “Yankee Doodle” and the feeling of pride with each step of progress they made. When Evelyn came back from Sokovia, he’d play just to put her to sleep. It was mostly him struggling through a song, but it was her messy lullaby. She could hear the effort, the want to please her and himself by learning a more complicated song. She’d hear him trying to bang out Clair de Lune. And she’d never hear it completed.


	26. 21. And Ends (Vivace ed Triofante)

#### June 29th, 2016, 11 AM, United Nations Headquarters, New York City

Evelyn was sitting alone outside the United Nations Security Council on the hard seat that looked soft. She was twiddling her thumbs for the past hour, waiting for the Sokovia Accords Committee of the UNSC to deliberate. This was the third trial of the UNSC she had to attend for herself, and besides T’Challa’s one hearing, the last she’d testified for.

The Sokovian Accords Implementation subcommittee decided to try T’Challa just once and Evelyn thrice because she didn’t have diplomatic immunity. That was the best reason she could conceive.

As she waited, she sometimes lifted her eyes from the spot on the floor to have a staring contest with the two guards posted outside the doors. It wasn’t a fun game because they didn’t stare back.

The committee members stared, though, and well. They only broke it to look down at their papers or write something down. Not much of their questions shook her. Everyone's pressing questions in Berlin when they had custody of her and Bucky and the preceding questions from the two other UN trials had already prepared her for that. Really, only one question and its follow-up made Evelyn’s heart race even now as she relived it from the seat outside the council doors.

_“Do you think you’re a danger to the community?” the Filipino committee member spoke in English, albeit being accented, one of the few moments Evelyn’s headset wasn’t needed._

_At that moment, she seemed to hear Nat’s voice though she wasn’t even here_ , Don’t be a smartass, you’re not immune to prosecution like I am. And it's too late to run if you slip up.

_Evelyn swallowed, “I have agreed to the terms of the Sokovia Accords that only this committee will dictate my actions as an Enhanced individual. So if the United Nations wants me to be a danger to the community, God forbid, then I will be.”_

_That seemed to hitch everyone’s breath, and Evelyn’s inner Nat just sighed from frustration. That was definitely a smartass answer, just clouded in smoke and mirrors._

_The committee member representing Honduras spoke up in rapid Spanish that Evelyn only caught words of until the English translation turned on in her ear, “Without dictation from any other body, do you then consider yourself a danger? Because without the direction of the United Nations, you still seem a danger to the public. For example, in Bucharest.”_

_A Romanian committee member wasn’t present at the hearing. It might have been a conflict of interest, but Evelyn was glad. They’d tear holes into her._

_She sighed. That questioned scared her. “I was defending someone’s right to live. I will always defend the right of the innocent to live.”_

_That was a good answer now because there was no question that Bucky Barnes was innocent of the bombing._

_“Please note,” the Bulgarian member spoke, looking down and flipping through his papers, “that Akari was present during the Battle of Sokovia during Ultron’s attack as defense for the Sokovian people.”_

_Other council members nodded along or remained stoic. Either behavior was difficult to tell which side they were on. But either way, it seemed that the mention of the Accords’ namesake shook everyone in the room._

_“And your time in S.H.I.E.L.D., did you ever become a danger?” the Dutch member asked with the English translation in Evelyn’s ear._

_“Only to whoever S.H.I.E.L.D. directed me to be dangerous to,” Evelyn said without hesitation. She knew she never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it._

The time they gave Evelyn was plenty of time to let her thoughts race. Did she testify correctly? Were her words translated well? How was Bucky? Where was he? Where was everyone?

Tony was here for a while. He testified on her behalf. He said nice things until he was asked about Evelyn’s abilities and why he had the need to make the Faraday bracelet. But it was overall nice. When Evelyn and all those subpoenaed were sent out of the room, he immediately bolted. He hardly looked her in the eye. And she didn’t try to mend the relationship, she didn’t deserve it.

_“Mr. Stark, why did you make the Faraday bracelet for Ms. Akari?” said the Indonesian member._

_Evelyn was seated to the side now, where she sat when other subpoenaed testifiers sat in the center of the council’s scrutiny. She looked at Stark, waiting for eye contact, for forgiveness of what she had done, but he didn’t turn his head to look at her._

_Instinctively, she gripped the bracelet that the Joint Terrorism Task Force returned to her, and was grateful for the slight numbness it gave. She shivered at the thought of the Faraday Mark 2 bracelet on her, and the way it shut her out of everything completely._

_“Precaution. Ever since Banner in South Africa, I felt like everyone needed precautions,” Stark admitted._

_Right then, she wanted to scream at him._ I had control, you just hated the fact that you didn’t. _But she couldn’t really blame Stark. She couldn’t blame people for being afraid of her._

_“So, you think Akari would create another incident like Mr. Banner in Johannesburg?” asked the same woman._

_Stark sighed exasperatedly, “With powers like Wanda Maximoff running around…I mean, not anymore, since that airport flash mob fiasco that I was willingly a part of… but there has to be more mind control superpowers out there. Any one of them can create another incident with any of us.”_

_Before any of the committee members could speak up to clarify the question, he held out his hand, indicating more, “To answer your question: yes, Akari could create another incident. With enough effort, they could make her shut down all the power grids in a 50-mile radius, send satellites from space raining down. But as can hundreds of the other inhumans registered on your list. You can’t put Eve on the spotlight when she’s subject to the same vulnerabilities as other enhanced individuals. How do I know you’re not under mind control right now?”_

_The Indonesian representative was outraged and was about to begin an accusation, but the president of the month of the UNSC, the woman from Ethiopia, Sibide Retha, sitting at the center of the semi-circle cut in before the hearing could get heated._

_“Concluding point,” Stark piped up before Retha could let him off the chair, “Evelyn will, to the best of her ability, do the right thing. I don’t think she would ever let herself commit the horrors you think she’s capable of doing. She’s seen too much. She’s been in situations where she couldn’t do anything, and she beat herself up over it.”_

_“What situations, Mr. Stark?” Indonesian member asked through a translation._

_Evelyn knew what he spoke of._

_Stark hesitated to answer, but he answered all the same, “Kolkata.”_

_The memories of that mission and everything after that haunted her suddenly came rushing back. At a time, she would have shrunk at the thought of those memories being made public. But she steeled herself now. Let them be haunted too._

_There was no chilling silence, though. To them, Kolkata was an isolated incident. Just the one bomb and the one non-hostile casualty that followed. The other 14 were silently disarmed in the night, hush hush._

__But somehow, the council members did not seek further explanation. They all connected the dots. The one casualty was Evelyn’s, the one bomb was her short coming._ _

_They let Stark off the chair, and called Nat to the stand. After waiting for a moment of silence that they all thought was a waste of time, the committee let everyone out while they deliberated._

Nat should be here too, but she ran after T'Challa told Ross what she'd done at the airport. She knew she’d broken her agreement with the Nations by letting Steve and Bucky go. Evelyn didn’t blame her.

Why didn’t Evelyn run too? Why did she come back? Why’d she choose to reboard T’Challa’s ship and hold a gun and her electrified hand in front of Zemo?

She didn’t know. All she knows is that for the past 2 years, she felt like she was running without a destination. Bucky’s treatment was something she’d be doing indefinitely, and with the amount of work she had, she didn’t see an end. In Siberia, with the choice between selfish happiness or justice for Bucky, it felt like she was standing at the edge precipice with a void below and a void behind.

Then there was a quiet knock on the door and the guards stepped aside and opened it. The UN aide slipped out and nodded at Evelyn, indicating for her to come in. Another guard appearing at the edge of her vision followed her deeper into the room.

Everything seemed to be slow but take place in a blink at the same time. She stared at the 6 committee members now staring regal daggers at her as she made her way to the seat in front of the members, waiting for judgement. The UN aide sat beside her, as he’d done for the duration of the trial if Evelyn needed explanation. The aide was a lawyer of sorts, though Evelyn had to do the defending herself.

As soon as Evelyn sat down, the UNSC President, Retha, began speaking, Evelyn’s earpiece activating in English.

“For the reasons set out in this Judgement, having considered all evidence and submissions of the parties, the Trial Chamber finds unanimously Evelyn Akari as follows…”

Evelyn’s breath hitched, waiting for her fate to be rattled off.

“Count 1: Guilty of violating Article 7, section 47, subsection 17 of the Sokovia Accords that states it be required that the approval of a nation’s government or the Sokovia Accords Implementation subcommittee before an Enhanced individual take action.”

Sibide Retha didn’t look up from her paper as she condemned Evelyn, the other members still maintained that regal stare at her.

At that moment, there was a buzz in the room, though there was no press inside. Without the confining clutch of the Faraday bracelet on her wrist, Evelyn could feel everyone’s cellphones buzzing, and those not on vibrate still light up with their tiny electric control panels.

Evelyn’s face flushed at the sudden reminder that this was being broadcasted live, and those in the room had friends and family that wanted the inner scoop. Everyone could probably see the way her face turned red and the way her heart jumped to her throat at the verdict.

Despite the sudden interruption of the still silence, the UNSC President continued, raising her voice a little:

“Count 2: Guilty of violating Article 7, section 48, subsection 9 of the Sokovia Accords that states it be illegal for an Enhanced individual to cross international borders without national government or SAI subcommittee approval.”

And it was the last count that followed. The one that Evelyn did not doubt she was guilty of.

“Count 3,” the President was concluding, a slight uplift in the corner of her mouth did not sit well with Evelyn. “On the charges of aiding and abetting the criminal known as the Winter Soldier wanted in 12 countries, this committee finds the defendant not guilty.”

_Shit._

_Wait._

“What?” Evelyn whispered, barely resisting the urge to grab the aide’s arm beside her.

The door burst open as television network producers passed the verdict along to interns who probably ran out to deliver the verdict to gathering press outside for immediate distribution. Right then, Evelyn felt her face burn hotter.

The room shifted as committee members moved in their seats and adjust their collars and shirts, and Evelyn could barely hear the UN aide’s attempt at an explanation:

“I don’t—”

“We’ll be moving to—”

“—know. They’ll be saying—”

“—sentencing now—”

 “your sentence now.”

In the chaos, Evelyn heard Retha’s commanding voice speak the sentence:

“This committee hereby sentences you to three months of action suspension for each guilty count. You are to comply with the Sokovia Accords as agreed, including the binding clause that prohibits you from taking unauthorized action, crossing international boundaries, and participating in missions undertaken by any organization. Any exception to this ruling must be discussed through a special convention of this committee. Any violations of this ruling or further violations of the Accords will subject the defendant to special imprisonment fit for the defendant’s abilities. The council members are thanked and excused, and this committee convention is adjourned.”

“What does that even mean?” Evelyn felt her mouth move and heard the words out loud, but she didn’t feel she occupied her body.

The UN aide began, Johnny, his name tag read, this was the first and last time Evelyn read his name tag, “It means they can’t…”

Evelyn was still recovering from the verdict of the final count that she was sure they got wrong, (“…employ you for any missions…”) and she found herself (“…and you can’t take part in conflict…”) being herded out of the room (“…and just like in the Accords. We’re freezing your assets. Your abilities, so to speak.”) and onto the street. When the building doors were opened, (“You’re one of us now.”) there was rapid fire questions and microphones shoved into her face and flashes and cameras and _guilt guilty guilty._

Everything was a blur. It was as if she was watching what was happening before her through another skin, another pair of eyes, not her own, through a gel that seemed to inhibit her movement and slow everything down.

The questions that occurred to her found a voice outside her head as news reporters screamed at her:

_Why do you think the committee ruled the way they did?_

_Do you think you are innocent of all your charges?_

_What does this committee’s ruling say for how Inhumans are treated in the eyes of the law?_

_Why did you act the way you did in Bucharest?_

_Some extremists say that your trial is the first step for Enhanced individuals being immune to the law, do you think so? Do you think you deserved your trial?_

_Where is the Winter Soldier now?_

Then she felt a soft hand on her right shoulder, and found Stark guiding her through the press crowd.

 “Ms. Akari has no further comment on the committee’s ruling, no statement will be released at this time. Don't wait up,” he said, he repeated as he gently pushed her forward.

Even with that, the reporters followed them all the way to the sidewalk. When Tony led her to the black Rolls Royce parked out front with Happy in the driver’s, Evelyn didn’t pause before getting in. Stark fluidly sat beside her and shut out the noise with the slam of the door.

Stark didn’t waste time, “Ross and General Talbot wants your power level tested tomorrow. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s picking you up from the Facility to evaluate you and equip you with your tracker bracelet. Several press interviews are lined up if you’re up for it We can start working on your official statement in the mean time.” He was staring at his phone, scrolling.

Evelyn could feel the tension and the uncomfortableness in the air.

“There’s the New York Times, Al Jazeera’s up there, the Guardian, Bloomberg,” he rattled them off.

“Buzzfeed’s real interested too,” Happy piped up from the driver’s seat. Stark only snorted.

Then there was a silence, and Evelyn was allowed to process. They found her guilty of the breaking of the Accords, but not her relations with Bucky. And that was fair. Why should they? They didn’t have proof that she hid him from prosecution all those years. They didn’t ask the right questions to pull that answer out of her.

So why did she feel guilty?

Evelyn knew the answer. The answer was right beside her. She was guilty of not giving Stark the truth, for lying to him, for denying him closure.

But maybe his presence beside her was a sign of his forgiveness. Maybe the committee ruled true on that count.

So why did she still feel—

“It wasn’t your fault,” Stark said in the silence, breaking her thought.

She shivered at the thought of him reading her mind.

“It wasn’t his fault either,” he admitted, but it was obvious that he struggled with the words. “I just…” he sighed. “I just wish you could’ve…”

“I’m sorry,” her voice came out broken and the tears threatened to fall. It was just a general statement that applied to everything she’d ever done, including wronging the person beside her.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she saw a struggling smile on his face. It didn’t need saying, but she knew he was on the way to forgiving her.

“One more thing,” he said, reaching into his jacket, and pulled out an envelope. “You’ve got mail.”

Evelyn gingerly took it from his hands. Her name was on the back. She ripped it open, recognizing the handwriting immediately.

“I got one too, so don’t think you’re special,” Stark said, there was disappointment and acceptance on his face, like a father finding a bottle of vodka under his teenage daughter's bed. The hand returned to his jacket pocket, and fished out an old flip phone.

“Incoming in about a minute,” he said, tossing her the phone.

“Wha…” Evelyn held the gadget in her hand, but before she could get an explanation, the phone vibrated.

“Who is it?” she asked Stark, afraid to answer. There was no reason to be afraid, but she still was.

When Tony didn’t respond and the phone kept shaking in her hand ( _Pick me up! Pick me up!_ ), she flipped it open.

“ _Evelyn?_ ” the voice crackled on the other line.

Her breath hitched and her throat clamped up. She never thought she’d hear his voice, not so soon. At that moment, Tony seemed to know who it was and quickly looked out the window, avoiding eye contact.

“ _Evelyn, it’s Bucky. Are you there?_ ”

“Yeah,” she was surprised when she found her voice, and surprised that it broke the moment she used it. “Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”

He breathed on the other line, and she knew there was a smile of relief. “ _I could be better, but I’m good. Did you read it?_ ”

Evelyn felt the folded paper in her hands and smoothed it open. Her eyes skimmed, catching only phrases and words. HYDRA, can’t trust my own mind, T’Challa, they can help, sleep, don’t want to hurt anybody, thank you.

“What is this?” she said out loud, but she knew what it was.

“ _I just wanted to say…_ ”

“Bucky?” she could hear the unsureness in his voice. She knew what was wrong. He was leaving.

Happy chimed in from the front once the name made its way out of her mouth, “Is this legal? Is she supposed to be—” His voice drowned out as Tony raised the glass between them.

“ _Evelyn…_ ”

“James, what are you doing?” she whispered, but she was outraged. She wanted to scream. She knew what he was doing.

 “ _Thank you for sticking with me through all the…_ ” he drifted but she knew what he meant. She got way more attached and protective of him than they both predicted, even when all the things he’d done started to come back.

“Whatever it is, I can help you. We have it figured out, don’t we? I can get the CCS back.”

Bucky scoffed on the other side, “ _That didn’t work as well as we thought it would._ ”

“I know, but…” _it was worth a try._ But they did try.

“ _I don’t want to hurt anybody again. I don’t want to hurt you again_ ,” his whispering voice was stronger, faster, as if more desperate. He wasn’t listening to her. They both knew she was just pleading. She couldn’t help him.

“ _This is the last time I’ll be hurting you, going away like this. When I come back, I’ll be… better. Hopefully_.”

It was like he was trying to convince her, but she knew he’d already made up his mind and she couldn’t change it. She didn’t want to change it.

“ _I’ll be better_ ,” he said, more assured. _“I’ll be better for you. I’ll be better for Steve. And for… for me_.”

And that was all she needed to be able to let go of him. She breathed deeply, feeling like she’d been holding her breath this whole time.

“I know,” she said. “I’m proud of you.”

There was a silence between them, waiting, for something. 

"Did you get the thumb drive?" she asked, like she was asking him if he took a jacket before he left the house.

" _Yeah, gave it to T'Challa's biotech team,_ " he said.

Then there was that silence again. Waiting for things to get back to normal. But after a few seconds, they grew tired of waiting.

“ _I’ll be back before you know it_ ,” he said, and she could hear his smile again, only this time it was sad.

“I’ll be waiting,” she said, and laughed. How could she laugh now? Her chest was setting up for a sob. “I love you.”

“ _I love you, too,_ ” said Bucky.

Evelyn didn’t want to hang up. Hanging up meant the end.

There was noise on his line, and she felt the weight on her chest.

“ _I need to go now. I love you._ ”

She nodded, and swallowed. “I know.”

And the line cut off. It cut off. He was gone.

She took the phone off her ear and snapped it shut. She breathed, but it felt like she couldn’t. Her hands shook, she held them out to see them shake, she saw the bracelet on her right wrist, she noticed how long her nails were getting, she’d need to trim those soon, and she noticed the—

Tony’s hands grabbed hers and held them still. Then he placed a small silver block on her hand. There was only one button, a play button. The only hole had headphones wires sticking out. On the back had familiar marker writings on it: _Just press play._

Evelyn hastily placed the headphones in her ears.

"Before I lose you," Stark said, putting a hand over the player in her hands. "T'Challa's invited you to his country. Sometime in two weeks. He can get the board to approve it in less time."

He let go of her hands when she nodded. Then she clicked the button.

What sounds she heard wrenched her heart and held her breath. “ _Hey, Evie. Thanks for everything. This is for you,_ ” Bucky’s voice was quiet, and that was the last of him. What came next was the stumbling piano notes of a song that sounded so familiar but so distant she almost couldn’t place it.

Listening to Bucky’s stumbling fingers clumsily bang out Clair de Lune, tears threatening to fall, and Stark’s sad and remorseful and trusting face looking at her, Evelyn faced and embraced the music.


	27. 22. This is Where (Del Segno al Fine)

#### December 26th, 2014, New York City

 

Evelyn sat on the bench by the tree overlooking the lake. She had been since the sun had set, now it was completely pitch black outside. She must have been here for hours.

She didn’t know what she was waiting for. There was nothing left to do. She had followed Barnes to his apartment, managed to grab the apartment across from his, got Maria Hill to clear her on the assignment after picking up her one-shoe ass in the middle of nowhere. All that was left to do was to get on her plane with a one way ticket to Bucharest.

Then she realized. She hadn’t said a word this whole time.

Evelyn stood walking up to the lake, recalling how Joanna’s mother had let her throw ashes into the wind, right at the spot she was standing now. She stood for hours, then, too. Even after Joanna’s mother said goodbye, even after Aulani said she was moving back to New Zealand, even after Stark and Steve and the Team left her alone.

Evelyn didn’t say goodbye that day. She never said it at all. Maybe if she didn’t say it, Joanna would somehow come back.

“I’m moving out tonight,” Evelyn said, quietly, afraid the empty park would hear. “Fresh start. Although, I don’t know what’s so fresh about it. It’s a new place, but I’m taking all this shit with me.”

 _Everything except you_.

“It is a new assignment. You should’ve seen how I found him,” Evelyn smiled, but it felt weird, it felt false. She wasn’t smiling at anybody. “There was a Tesseract particle left over from world war 2. And there was this portal…” she drifted off, unable to go on.

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly said out loud. It came as a surprise, but it’s what’s been building up for more than a month now. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to save you.”

It spilled out now. “I’m sorry I let you die like that. I’m sorry I let you die like you did in that other universe. I’m sorry that I didn’t try hard enough. I’m sorry I couldn’t make a portal in Kolkata. I’m sorry I made you die like that.”

Then her throat was raw from screaming at the water, and her eyes hurt from letting it all out. The snow was cold and hard against her knees. She sank further into it, letting the bite of the cold ground her.

“I’m sorry for everything I couldn’t do,” she said, the words barely making sound out of her mouth. “I’m sorry for failing.”

She was spent now. All she wanted to say, all that she’s been trying to bury, everything she tried to push from her consciousness, had come out in that infinite second of screaming at the lake, at the water, at Joanna.

“Evelyn,” she heard a crisp voice behind her. Evelyn quickly pulled off her Faraday bracelet and gathered crackling electricity at her hand, the nearest lamp buzzing in response. She could barely see through the blur of her tears, but Steve stood there, hands in his pocket, a scarf wrapped around his neck. A few feet behind him was Stark, making clouds out of his breath.

“Steve, god,” she said in shock, putting the electricity back where she got it. “What are you doing here?” she felt scratch of her throat. She quickly wiped her eyes and sniffed.

“Hill accidentally let it slip that you were leaving,” he said, and made his way beside her, snow crunching under his feet.

“Accidentally, yeah,” she scoffed. Hill doing things accidentally was a myth. Evelyn looked at the new source of guilt beside her. He could never know about Bucky until Fury cleared it. She smiled at him, as if it would put away the transparency on her face. “I meant to go quietly,” she said, looking away from him and back at the water.

There was more crunching of snow and Stark sat down on Evelyn’s free side, “You know there’s a bench right there?”

“I’ve been sitting on that bench for hours,” she said, shifting to hug her knees.

They all sat there for a moment, choosing what to say in their mind. Evelyn just wished they would go away so she didn’t have to see them, but she wished they stayed, too.

“You don’t have to go alone, you know,” Steve broke the stewing silence.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. They didn’t want her to leave. “Yeah, I do.”

“Even after all that time in South America? After all this time with us?” Tony interjected.

“Especially after all that time,” she tried not to let her already raw voice break, she crossed her legs to distract herself momentarily. “I was stupid to think I was cut out for a team. I was stupid to let myself think that people could rely on _me_. S.H.I.E.L.D. fell because I couldn’t do anything about it. Joanna’s gone because of me.”

Steve twitched, leaning forward to look at her with an understanding look in his eyes. “None of that—”

“—was my fault. You keep telling me that. But it is. It is my fault. Going alone…”

Her voice broke then, and her face suddenly felt colder in streaks as the tears fell. At that moment, she felt Steve and Tony wrap an arm around her. At that moment, the cold in the air had gone down, and the empty in her chest had ached.

“I just…” she breathed as she felt every nerve warm at Tony and Steve’s arms. Just not warm enough. “I need to reevaluate myself, my powers, everything that I thought I was. What I thought my purpose was died with Joanna. Maybe it died with S.H.I.E.L.D. If I couldn’t save Joanna, then what…”

She didn’t want to say it out loud. That would only make things harder, and maybe she would just never leave this spot.

“I just need to be alone for a while,” she braced for the cold again. But when seconds passed and nothing changed, Evelyn shook off their arms and stood to face them. “And you can’t change my mind.”

Steve sighed, and stood beside her to look at the lake, “We know.”

“It just didn’t hurt to try,” Tony added, standing, too.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“To say goodbye,” Tony said, his voice reaching her gravity for reasons she didn’t know. He spun her at the shoulder, so they joined Steve in watching the December moon light the lake.

“This is the only permanent goodbye I wanted to say,” she pointed at the lake overlooked by the tree next to the bench. “What I should’ve said long ago. But that’s all. It’s too permanent for the lot of you.”

“You don’t have to say it,” Steve nodded. “But we are. That’s all we can do now. Say goodbye in the knowledge we get to say it again.”

“That’s the worst thing, Evelyn,” Tony put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Not taking the chance to say it. Never being able to say it again.”

They all stayed silent, letting the words that they all seemed to understand in their own way sink in.

“Well, let’s go,” Evelyn said, turning around.

Tony began, “Wait, we didn’t—”

Evelyn kept walking, “You’re taking me to the airport. My flight’s in an hour. Where did you park?”

* * *

 

Tony and Steve got through the airport process easier than Evelyn did, being superstars and all. It was at the boarding gate, short moments before departure, that Tony held her by the shoulders and looked at her, a wavering smile on his face.

“Send me your address. I'll ship you some furniture,” then he wrapped her arms around her, and she couldn’t help reciprocate the warmth despite the sadness they all seemed to permeate. “I’m going to miss you, Evelyn. Like the kid I’ve never known about. You’re too amazing not to miss.”

Tony pulled himself away and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before standing aside for Steve, quickly tucking his hands in his pocket, not knowing what to do with himself at the moment.

“You have no idea how hard that was,” he muttered to himself, almost out of earshot. Then he sat down on the nearest chair a few feet away.

Then Steve smiled at her. It was that same smile he gave S.M., the one that Evelyn had committed to memory. “Goodbye, Evelyn.”

Then he gave her a hug, one he couldn’t give S.M., or anyone from his past. And she returned it, trying to infuse as much comfort into it as she could, trying to make up for everything he lost. “I’ll see you, Stevens.”

He chuckled as he held her at arm’s length, then his amusement dropped to melancholy, “You didn't fail. Evelyn. You’re not a failure. You’re the farthest thing from a failure.”

He must have heard her back at the lake. Evelyn tried not to writhe at the lie, “Steve, I—”

“Trust me,” he shook his head, not wanting to hear her contradiction. “All you’ve ever given was your best. And that’s all that matters. You don’t know it, but Joanna did, S.H.I.E.L.D. did, and _we_ do.”

She wanted to fall apart then, but she just fell back into Steve, wrapping her arms tightly, letting his jacket take her tears away.

Then the airport speakers came on, announcing the boarding time for her gate was about to end. It was then that Evelyn could pull away, hoping her break didn’t show.

“Next Christmas,” she smiled at Steve and Tony. “Maybe birthday calls.”

“I expect nothing less,” Tony said.

“Take care of each other,” Evelyn noted before shouldering her carry-on. This was it. The end. And a beginning. Of something.

Steve and Tony both stood beside each other, and their smiles and waves were the last thing she saw before she turned around and boarded the plane. She walked, anticipating the future, and leapt into the void of uncertainty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me this far. Hope you enjoyed it. And a playlist for the road: https://spoti.fi/2qXIaRH with Splendor by M83 that captured the mood of those last few chapters. Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate it verily. :))))


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